


Falling Slowly

by anxious_bees



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, Anxiety, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mentions of Cancer, Mutual Pining, Platonic Cuddling, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, oblivious gays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:15:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 31,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27759754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anxious_bees/pseuds/anxious_bees
Summary: Patton Foster is immediately charmed by a boy called Logan Sanders, who moves in next door in time for their first year of high school. However, it is not convenient to grow up and fall in love with your best friend, so Patton tries his best to push his feelings aside. His brother Virgil thinks he's an idiot for being so blind - but he'd be a hypocrite to point it out when he can't take his eyes off the loud dramatic boy that has followed him around since middle school.A bundle of hopeless gays just trying their best.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Deceit | Janus Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders
Comments: 10
Kudos: 62





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> A Sanders Sides fic I wrote during quarantine - yes they're all gay and yes it's going to be sickening to read. Also, this was written before Janus' name reveal and I'm keeping the original name (Dexter) because I don't know how many parents would call their kids Janus - though it is a lovely name. Enjoy! <3

“Was not!”

“Was too!”

“Was not, Popstar!”

Patton smiled down at his little brother. Virgil, a twelve-year-old who was already beginning to slip into an emo phase, glared at him, though with a smile threatening to crack through his expression.

They were walking down the street of their suburban neighbourhood, the sun hanging low with gentle rays shining in the late summer air. Patton and Virgil Foster were returning from the grocery store, a task their mother had bestowed upon them with twenty dollars and a kiss on the forehead; “buy one snack each, but no more! And stick to the list!” Patton had insisted on holding Virgil’s hand there and back, double checking the roads before crossing the street and averting him from strange-looking individuals. Virgil complied happily, looking up sweetly at his fourteen-year-old brother as they walked back to their house.

Virgil had picked out a simple Hershies candy bar and was nibbling on it delicately. Patton had bought raspberry flavoured Nerds, occasionally tipping his head back and taking a large mouthful of the candy, accidently spilling several on the floor each time without fail. Patton walked carefully with his backpack full of groceries, mindful of the eggs at the bottom.

They were arguing, albeit playfully, about a shy encounter in the store between Virgil and another girl in his grade.

“Was so, Virge!” Patton giggled, gently shoving his shoulder. “You went so red when she said hi!”

“Because I wasn’t expecting to see anyone I know outside of school,” Virgil whined, trying to cover the blush that was yet again dusting his cheeks.

“And that you’re in love,” Patton sang, laughing when Virgil headbutts his arm.

They reached their house and saw that a moving van was parked on their side of the street. Boxes and furniture were being carried from the van into the house next door to their own.

“The new neighbours are here,” Patton said, smiling. Virgil bowed his head, his eyes darting around at the various people walking around.

Patton pulled Virgil along to stand in front of the house. A woman, who was standing on the porch, spotted the two boys. Patton waved enthusiastically whilst Virgil hid himself behind his brother, groaning quietly as he squeezed Patton’s hand, feeling his nerves steady slightly when he felt a reassuring squeeze back.

The woman had walked over to the boys, smiling sweetly. She seemed rather wispy and frail, though her eyes sparkled in the sunlight, framed by thick eyelashes. Her greying hair was tied up in a bun, though strands were falling out, and her forehead was creased with worry. She approached the two boys, smiling down at them.

“Hello,” she said, looking between Patton and Virgil. “You must be Andrea and Philip’s sons. They’ve just been helping us with some of our stuff.”

“Yep!” Patton replied, grinning at the woman. “I’m Patton and this is my brother, Virgil.”

Virgil looked up shyly, nodding at the woman before shuffling closer to Patton.

She chuckled lightly. “Well, it is lovely to meet you. I am Veronica, and I’m with my husband, Matthew. Our son is upstairs at the minute, but if I dared to try to bring him down before he’s sorted out his room, then we’d be moving out immediately in a body bag!”

Patton laughed uncertainly at the joke. Virgil spluttered out a giggle but kept looking at his feet.

“Welcome to Winterton Way, Veronica,” Patton said.

“Would you boys like to come in for some afternoon tea?” she asked, gesturing back to the house. “It would be lovely to get to know our neighbours a bit better. I’ve got muffins.”

Patton opened his mouth to accept, but he felt a subtle tug on his hand. Not even having to turn around, he then went to shake his head.

“That’s awfully kind, ma’am, but we need to get back to help out mom with dinner. Maybe another time? We should really let you settle in properly too.”

Veronica laughed, putting her hand over her heart. “Oh, you two are so sweet. No problem Patton, we will surely meet again soon. Have a lovely evening you two.”

Virgil started to pull Patton along the path to get to their house, quickly flashing Veronica a nervous smile before scurrying along. Patton waved, saying a last goodbye. He turned back to Virgil, squeezing his hand.

“You okay?”

Virgil nodded, only pulling himself closer to Patton, who gladly put his arm around him, turning to walk up the porch of their house.

“Momma!” Virgil called out once closing the front door behind them, immediately taking off their shoes.

“Yes, V?” a woman’s voice called back, sounding from the kitchen. Virgil ran straight down the hallway to their mom, standing with an apron tied around her waist. Her hair was brown, cropped short around her collarbone, glasses perched up on the top of her head. Her eyes were a dark chocolate brown, light wrinkles appearing when she turned to see her two boys as she smiled, opening up her flour-covered hands to catch Virgil, who wrapped himself around her mid-section.

“You were only gone twenty minutes,” she giggled, using her elbow to ruffle the top of Virgil’s hair.

“But it felt like years!” Patton whined playfully, sitting on one of the breakfast bar stools, placing his backpack carefully on the side so he could unpack it. Virgil broke from the ‘embrace’ and ran off to his room.

Mom sighed after him, grabbing a tea towel to wipe her hands. “Does he seem to be getting worse?” she asked Patton, her brow furrowed slightly.

Patton sat there quietly, looking down at the carton of eggs in his hands. “He’s just naturally nervous, Mom,” he replied. “And growing older doesn’t really make that go away.”

“I’m worried about him at school,” Mom confessed, looking through the groceries Patton had unpacked. “How do you find Moredale, Patton?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I just got on with it – I don’t worry like Virgil does. And kids are – well they’re kids. They can be mean.”

Mom pressed her lips together, then shook her head. “Thank you both for shopping for me,” she said, opening a bag of spinach. “I got distracted by the neighbours midway through so dinner will be a bit later than normal. The van is still outside, right?”

“Yeah, Virgil and I met the lady, Veronica.” Patton inspected each egg for cracks. “She seems really nice.”

“Yes, she does. Her husband is polite, though he seemed rather cold. Moving is rather stressful so I should have waited until later,” she said. “Did you meet their son?”

Patton shook his head.

“I saw him walking in with a large pile of books. I said hello, but I don’t think he heard me. He’s your age, Patton, going into his first year of high school as well. I imagine he’ll be going to Belle Vue High as well.”

Patton’s eyes lit up at the thought of a new friend. Sure, he had Dexter, but there was always room for more.

“Anyways, Veronica mentioned a chance of a ‘hello to the neighbourhood’ party in the next few weeks, so we’ll be able to get to know them better,” Mom said, looking at Patton. “Does that sound good?”

“Yeah, definitely,” Patton replied, squinting at the writing on the side of the carton of eggs, his head aching slightly at the effort.

“Go and get Virgil so you can set the table together. And bring Dad down too so he can help me.”

Patton hopped off the stool and went up the stairs, passing Virgil’s room and the muffled sound of Paramore from under the door. He went into his room, shutting the door behind him, flopping on his bed and sighing.

His cheeks hurt from smiling all day. His head was swimming as he looked up at the glow-in-the-dark stars stuck on his ceiling. Patton tried to shake the feeling as he sat up, looking in his long mirror in the corner of his room. His brown hair was sticking up from being pushed back too much, his eyes looked bleary, the bright blue lacking its usual sparkle. He rubbed his face, trying to will more energy into himself.

Patton didn’t understand why he was deflating. He was happy, he was joyful, he was the cheeriest guy around. So why did it feel like a chore? Why did he sometimes feel like crying instead of smiling?

He stood up abruptly, shaking his head as he paced his room. He looked out of his window, which gave him a view of the house of the new neighbours, specifically one window. He peered in curiously – the room was mostly bare, though furniture had begun to find their place in the room. A double bed was tucked away in the corner, and a boy was sat on the end, looking at a list in his hand.

Patton realised this was the son. He tried to look closer, but his eyes began to strain from the effort.

He couldn’t see the boy clearly enough due to his poor eyesight, but he could see he had a dark button-down shirt on and had a darker brown hair than himself. Not one hair seemed to be out of place. He looked certain.

As if he sensed it, the boy looked up directly at Patton.

Their eyes met.

Patton jumped slightly, feeling shameful that he had been caught essentially spying. He waved and smiled bashfully at the boy, who pushed his glasses further up his nose, blinking back at Patton. He raised his hand to wave back, his movement robotic and careful.

“Patton! Table! Now!”

He turned around at the sound of his mother’s voice and cursed himself for forgetting. He flashed an apologetic smile at the boy before leaving his room, knocking on Virgil’s door before dragging him downstairs.

A flush still remained on Patton’s face as he helped set the table, thinking about how his neighbour must already think him a freak.

Hopefully, he had time to redeem himself later.

*

Patton was awaken by someone shaking his arm gently. He rolled over, squinting in the dark at his bedside table. His clock read 02:35.

Virgil was stood in his pyjamas, trembling slightly. Even in the dark, Patton knew his eyes were full of tears.

“C-can I…?”

Patton lifted his duvet, letting Virgil crawl in next to him. He wasted no time in bringing Virgil into his chest, stroking his hair as he hiccupped through his tears.

Virgil had always been an anxious child – even as a baby, he would whimper at any sudden movements and cry if someone spoke too loudly. As he grew, he was naturally shy around strangers or less familiar people, such as extended family. Making friends was difficult for him – he had no real firm friends in his middle school. Truly, the only person he could connect to was Patton.

As of the last three months, Virgil had start to have trouble sleeping, waking up, as he described it, feeling terrified and scared for no apparent reason. He had suffered in silence for a while before Patton discovered him sobbing in his room one night on his way back from the bathroom. He was immediately swaddled in blankets and cuddled until he stopped crying. And from that moment on, Virgil was welcome to find Patton whenever he needed it, no matter what time. Patton didn’t mind – he loved Virgil and would do anything to make him feel better.

“Do you want to sit out on the roof?” Patton whispered, patting Virgil’s arm. He nodded, wiping away the last of his tears.

They grabbed Patton’s duvet and walked to the window, opening it and throwing the duvet on the rood. Their house had a slightly slanted roof that almost touched the roof of the house next door with an identical layout, perfect for Patton to climb out on and sit if he needed a moment alone.

The two clambered out of the window, Patton laying the duvet out so they could both sit down. They looked up at the sky, thankful for a clear night so they could see the stars. Patton listened to Virgil’s breathing, relieved that it was starting to slow to normal.

“You okay, Virge?” he asked quietly.

Virgil sniffed, looking down at his knees. “I don’t really know,” he replied slowly. “I don’t know what’s going on with me.”

Patton felt his heart break a little, seeing how scared Virgil looked, how small and fragile he seemed. He put his arm around him, rubbing his arm in reassurance.

“I wish you could understand what’s going on,” Patton whispered to him. “Heck, I wish I could help more. But you know you can always come to me, or Mom or Dad. If you really feel like you need it, then we can see a professional – “Virgil tensed under Patton’s grip “– but I understand that it’s not easy. You’ve always got me though, Virge. You’ve always got your Popstar.”

Virgil giggled, leaning his head against Patton’s shoulder. “Thanks, Pat.”

“No problem, shadow-ling.”

The brothers sat in a comfortable silence, the warm summer air a relaxing blanket around them. Patton gazed at the stars littering the night sky, feeling more content than he had in a while. He looked around, his eyes drawing to next door’s window.

The boy was there again, now standing and looking out of his window. His glasses glinted in the moonlight; his expression soft as he stared at the sky. He looked at where Virgil and Patton were sitting, making eye contact with Patton.

Patton smiled instinctively. The boy’s expression froze over slightly but he nodded back slowly. He pushed his hair back from his eyes.

Patton thought he looked beautiful. He felt himself blush at that thought.

He blinked and the curtains were closed.


	2. Chapter Two

Patton shifted uncomfortably, staring at his reflection in his bedroom mirror. His black bow tie felt all too snug around his neck.

“Are you sure this isn’t too much?” Patton called out into the hallway to his dad. “No one else will be wearing one.”

“I will, and so will Virgil,” Philip called back. “And first impressions are extremely important, Pat.”

He turned back to the mirror, grimacing slightly at what he saw; his blue button-down shirt strained a little too much over his stomach, his light brown chinos hitched a bit too high, his socks unmatched like always. His head was starting to pound at how difficult it was to focus on anything.

Virgil walked into his room, coming to stand next to Patton. He too frowned at the reflection, itching at his purple bow tie.

“We look stupid,” Virgil grumbled.

“Maybe you do,” Patton teased, ruffling Virgil’s hair. He shoved his arm away, running his fingers through his hair.

“Come on boys!” Andrea’s voice called out. “I want both of you to carry some food!”

They walked down the stairs, cutting into the kitchen to grab a potato dish and a salad before the four headed out of the front door.

The Sanders’ had invited the street to a housewarming party, a week before Patton and Virgil were to start school again. Virgil had been very hesitant, but they had accepted the invitation. With arms full of food, they walked the short distance to next door’s porch, knocking briskly on the door.

Veronica answered, smiling at the Foster family. “First to arrive!” she said brightly, opening the door to let them all step in. “Don’t worry about your shoes, we’ll be in and out of the garden.”

“How are you all settling in?” Philip asked, shaking Veronica’s hand as they all walked into the hallway. Virgil stayed hidden behind Andrea. Patton smiled nervously.

“Just fine, thank you. Enjoying the last few days of summer,” she replied, gesturing for them to come into the kitchen.

A man was stood arranging plates on the breakfast bar, turning at the sound of new voices. The man wore glasses and stood tall; his expression was stony. A smile appeared on his face when he saw the guests, though it didn’t meet his eyes, which were a stormy grey. Patton’s stomach tightened in discomfort.

“Hello Philip, Andrea,” he nodded, reaching out to shake their hands. “And these must be your two boys?”

Andrea pushed them forward gently. “Yes, this is Patton, and this is Virgil.” She touched their heads in turn.

Patton stepped forward first, taking his hand, noticing how cold he felt to touch and how his grip seemed too tight. “I’m Patton, sir. And this is my brother, Virgil,” he gestured behind him, where Virgil was gripping their mother’s skirt, his hands trembling.

Mr Sanders raised an eyebrow at the younger boy, as if in disapproval, but looked back to Patton and smiled pleasantly enough. “Lovely to meet you, Patton. I’m Matthew. Veronica tells me you’re the same age as our Logan?”

“I’m fourteen,” Patton replied.

“Ah yes. I’ll tell you; it would do the boy some good if he started high school with a friend – not that I envy you, Patton. Hell, who knows if he’ll finish with any.”

Patton felt his face fall and he let go of Matthew’s hand. Veronica looked pained but didn’t say anything. He turned around to look at his parents, who both seemed shocked as Matthew’s unkind sentiment. Quick to diffuse any discomfort, Philip walked further into the kitchen and dining area.

“You’ve set up quite the barbeque,” he said, dragging Veronica and Matthew away to talk about the move. Andrea took the dishes off of Patton and Virgil and set them among the other plates of food on the vast breakfast bar island, then went to follow the other adults, leaving Virgil with Patton.

Their kitchen and dining space were an open layout, with large glass panels seeing out into the garden. A barbeque grill was on the cobblestones, with a table and ice bucket for drinks by the open glass door and a freshly cut lawn stretching far down. A bed for flowers and various other plants ran along a left strip of the garden.

A cough sounded behind Patton, and he turned around.

The boy he had seen from his window was standing in front of him. His glasses were pushed right up on his nose, and for the first time Patton could see that his eyes were a deep blue. He too was wearing a tie, only his was a necktie, with a black button-down shirt tucked into dark blue jeans. He stood a couple of inches taller than Patton and, despite the childlike chubbiness still on his cheeks, his face was sharp and set. He looked like his father, only softer and less rigid, though he stood eerily still, and his expression was far too neutral. He held a book in his hand, which Patton could see was Agatha Christie’s _Murder on the Orient Express_.

Patton felt his face flush and he adjusted his bowtie. Virgil went to Patton’s side, clutching the back of his shirt.

“Hi,” Patton said hoarsely. “I’m Patton. We live next door.”

“Yes, I’ve seen you through my window from time to time. Your mother and father helped us with our couch and armchair from the moving van,” the boy replied in a smooth and sure tone, not quite robotic, but without fault, as if he had been practising his answer. He reached out a hand towards Patton, who took a little too long to realise that it was an offer to shake hands. “I am Logan Sanders.”

His hand was warm, the grip slightly awkward. Patton thought it was strange for a fourteen-year-old to be so formal, but he couldn’t help but be drawn to Logan because of it.

Logan nodded at Patton, then looked towards Virgil. “And who might you be?”

Virgil was half hiding behind Patton, his eyes darting everywhere except for where Logan stood. He mumbled his name quickly, then took off to the garden where Andrea was standing, latching onto her skirt and hiding his face.

Logan blinked. “Did I offend him?” he asked, looking at Patton.

“He’s quite nervous around new people,” Patton stammered, slightly disconcerted by the intensity of Logan’s eye contact.

“He seems like he is susceptible to an anxiety disorder once he gets older,” Logan mused. “If he hasn’t already got one.”

Patton felt uncomfortable talking about Virgil, so he changed the subject. “So where did you move from?”

“Arizona. Father found a new job up here that paid better than his last, so here we are. I start at Belle Vue High next week as a freshman.”

Patton smiled. “Hey, me too! Maybe we could walk there together in the mornings? I did orientation with my friend Dexter in the summer so I kind of know my way around.”

Logan didn’t seem to be enthused nor disgusted by Patton’s proposal. Patton began to feel hot, thinking he had been too forward.

“That would be good,” Logan finally replied. “If it is a fifteen-minute walk, and it is always optimal to arrive twenty minute early, and we should leave a five-minute margin of potential lateness – I propose we meet outside our houses at twenty past eight earliest.”

Now it was Patton’s turn to blink. “Sure, sounds great!” he managed to reply, still shocked over how proper Logan was. At least he had sorted out a walking buddy.

There was a knock at the door – more neighbours arriving – so Logan excused himself to let them in, leaving Patton staring after him in slight wonderment.

*

The party was in full swing – people were milling around in the kitchen and garden with plates of food in hand and drinks in the other. Instead of Virgil stuck by his side, he found Logan wherever he turned. He didn’t seem shy or nervous, but rather reserved, as if he didn’t really know how to interact with others. Patton, thankfully, had a hand at small talk, and guided Logan into conversations. Between various people gathering to chat, Patton found out that Logan loved reading (he clutched to his novel like a lifeline) and had drawn out his future library along with a list of books he would keep there. He found out that Logan was interested in astrophysics and chemistry and aspired to go to MIT, that he had an affiliation for Crofter’s Jams and Jellies, and that he liked classical music. Patton, in turn, shared that he was interested in studying psychology, that he had a soft spot for Jane Austen novels, and that he and Virgil once got lost in a corn maze for several hours before the staff found them. When he told that story, it was the first time he had seen Logan smile and laugh (albeit a small chuckle) and it made Patton’s stomach do a small flip. Seeing his dimples and laugh lines crease, his cheeks rise, his teeth resting on his lower lip made Patton feel warm.

Why, he did not know.

Eventually, the evening came to a close. Guest filed out, thanking Veronica and Matthew for a wonderful night. The Fosters were one of the last families to leave. As they were stumbling out of the door, Logan touched Patton’s shoulder, handing him his phone with an empty contact on screen – “in case we need it” – and Patton gave him his number, smiling before the door shut behind them.

“That was such a lovely evening,” Andrea said sleepily, holding Philip’s hand. “What nice people. And it’s good that you and Logan got along well, Patton.”

“Yeah, he’s really cool,” Patton mused, the boy still on his mind.


	3. Chapter Three

The alarm woke Patton up at 07:30 on Monday morning. He groaned, hitting the off button before getting out of bed.

He hadn’t seen Logan since their housewarming party – he had received a text from him to confirm that it was in fact his number, but nothing since. A few times he caught a glimpse of him through their windows and they would wave, but that was it.

Today was the first day of high school, and Patton was slightly nervous, despite knowing most of the year were moving up with him from middle school. New school always meant new people, and even though Patton was known to get along with almost anyone, it didn’t stop anxiety from fluttering around in his chest.

One shower later, Patton was dressed and packed, so he went down the stairs.

“Good morning,” he said cheerfully to his dad and mom, who were stood by the kitchen side, ready to head off to work.

“Morning, sweetheart,” Andrea replied, walking over with a plate of toast and a glass of orange juice. “Ready for your first day?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” He smeared butter on the toast and began chomping it down. “Where’s Virgil?”

“In the bathroom,” Philip answered. “Give him some time.”

Patton nodded, taking another piece of toast.

Virgil eventually came down the stairs. He was wringing his hands, his eyes unfocused. When Andrea offered him the toast, he shook his head slightly.

Patton put his arm around him. “You’re going to be fine,” he whispered. “You can text me in the day if you need to.”

Virgil looked up at Patton, smiling gratefully.

Patton looked at his watch, realising it was 08:19.

“I need to go and meet Logan,” he said, swallowing the last of his toast and swinging his backpack on his back.

“Are you walking together?” Andrea asked.

“Yep! Have a good day, see you later.” He ruffled Virgil’s hair, laughing when he ducked away.

“You too!” the three of them called back to him as he walked down the hall to the door.

When he opened the front door, he saw Logan standing by the maple tree in Patton’s garden. Even for school, he had adopted a necktie and a button-down shirt, and had a laptop bag rather than a backpack. Upon seeing Patton, he waved.

“Good morning,” Logan said once Patton had walked to stand next to him. “Shall we?”

“Sure,” Patton smiled, turning left to start walking. Logan fell in step with him, his strides long and fast.

“Are you feeling apprehensive about freshman year?” Logan asked, his gaze yet again piercing Patton.

Patton shrugged. “As much as anyone else, I guess. I mean, everyone in my middle school moved up to Belle Vue, so there will be a lot of familiar faces. What about you? Since you’re starting fresh.”

“I can’t bring myself to be nervous,” Logan said, perfectly poised. “I am going to be there to learn and not do much else. I’ve never been a people person, so I won’t concern myself that much with others if not necessary.”

Patton felt his heart sink, realising that Logan would most likely only walk to, and maybe back, from school, but wouldn’t interact with him in between. Still, he held his head high.

“You still reading _Murder on the Orient Express_?”

“I finished it three days ago. I started _Pride and Prejudice_ , seeing as you spoke so highly of it. I must say I’m finding it rather enjoyable. The way Austen wrote the relationships between the women in the book is fascinating for its time.”

Patton felt himself shine with happiness at Logan. To think he began to read a book that Patton liked! “And what do you think of Mr Darcy? And Bingley, of course.”

“Bingley seems too enthusiastic most of the time,” Logan said. “Rather overt in his nature. So far, Darcy seems rather cold, though I imagine it’s just awkwardness. Lizzie is rather fiery – any socially inept man would be intimidated.”

“But Bingley is fascinated by life and adores Jane with all his heart. He’s a romantic! I can relate to him a lot,” Patton added, looking at the road before crossing the street.

Logan looked at Patton, and a small smile appeared on his face. “I can see that” he said.

Patton was unsure if that was supposed to be a snide comment but pressed on. The two chatted more about _Pride and Prejudice_ , moving on to more Austen recommendations, as well as Logan offering to loan some of his Christie novels to Patton. Before they knew it, they were standing outside of their high school. Teenagers were wandering across the grounds, walking into the main building.

“I think we go straight to the main hall so they can give us our timetables,” Patton said, turning to Logan. Logan swallowed, suddenly looking a little unsteady. Patton instinctively reached out to touch his shoulder. “You okay?”

Logan looked at Patton’s hand, as if he were a stranger. Patton, realising he had overstepped a boundary, removed his hand, mumbling an apology. He gave Logan a moment to collect himself.

“I’m alright. Just a spell of dizziness, that’s all.” Logan shook his head slightly and his eyes refocused.

Patton smiled uncertainly. “Okay.”

The two walked into the school, quickly surrounded by other students, some Patton recognised from last year. He spotted Dexter quickly, not like he wasn’t easy to see. He waved him over.

Dexter seemed to glide through the mass, stopping in front of Patton and Logan. He wore a yellow and black waistcoat, a chain connected from his button to keep his pocket watch hidden away. His green eyes shone in the morning light, reaching out to embrace Patton.

“It’s been too long,” Dexter said, withdrawing and turning to Logan. “Patton, may you introduce me to your companion?”

Patton blushed at the suggestive tone. “Dexter, this is Logan; he moved in next door to me.” Logan nodded at Dexter, surprisingly not drawing himself to the birthmark that blossomed over Dexter’s left eye.

“Sheesh, you always go for the talkers, Pat,” Dexter drawled. “By any means, welcome to hell – let’s hope you survive it.”

“This is a high school,” Logan stated. “Surely hell would be a lot hotter.”

Dexter was silent before bursting out in laughter. “Oh, I like him,” he exclaimed, clapping his hands together. “Now let’s get ourselves sorted out. I’ll see you two at lunch if I don’t before then.” And with that, he had disappeared.

Logan frowned slightly. “What did I say?” he asked quietly.

Patton led them forward to the hall. “I don’t think he was expecting you to answer so literally. Dexter’s not mean-hearted – he’s a compulsive liar and likes to fabricate the truth, but he can see right through anyone and has best interests at heart. He’s a fan of philosophy, so I’m sure you’ll get along.” Patton paused. “That is if you want to stick with us – well, me, mostly.”

Logan looked mildly at Patton. “Of course,” he replied, no doubt in his voice at all. Patton felt himself go red again at Logan’s bluntness.

They eventually received their timetables. Patton was happy to discover they were in the same science classes and had the same lunch periods. Today, they finished with biology, so Patton bid Logan farewell as they parted ways, Logan to Mathematics and Patton to English.

*

Patton walked into the dining hall, scanning the room for a familiar face; the overwhelming capacity of all the students made him feel really antsy. Thankfully, he spotted Dexter waving at him in the far corner of the hall. He was already sitting with Logan, who was talking to him, full of animation with his hands moving everywhere. Patton found himself smiling automatically at the sight.

“How are you two finding everything?” he asked, sitting down next to Logan.

“Adequate,” Logan replied, taking a bite into his sandwich. “Most of the teachers are satisfactory. The majority of the students are below average intelligence. Overall, an underwhelming experience so far.”

Patton nodded, slightly amused by Logan’s matter-of-fact tone. “How about you, Dexter?”

“Everyone’s a dumb shit,” Dexter summed up, waving his hand carelessly. “You remember Remus?”

“How could I forget?” Patton laughed, opening his bag and bringing out a Tupperware of pasta.

“He’s already got himself a detention for drawing an extremely detailed dick on the whiteboard in Classics.” Dexter sighed, resting his head on his hand.

“Your taste in men is abysmal, I hope you know that,” Patton said, eating away. “Always going for your bad boys.”

“He’s not a bad boy,” Dexter interjected. “He’s just a bit chaotic.”

Logan looked at Dexter. “You’re a homosexual?”

The smile on Dexter’s face faded and Patton tensed. Logan’s face was unreadable, and he was staring at Dexter.

“Um – yeah, I am.” Patton had never seen Dexter look uncomfortable. All he was repeating in his head was _please don’t be a homophobe, please don’t be a homophobe._

Logan nodded. He looked almost curious.

“Alright.”

Dexter exhaled in relief, turning back to his sandwich. His hands were shaking.

Patton started to talk about his history class, and they launched into a discussion about the Cold War. The awkwardness thankfully dissipated and they continued with lunch normally.

*

Virgil was sat alone on the wall, picking at the pasta his mom had packed for him that morning. So far, his classes were okay; he hadn’t been called to attention apart from register and no one had bothered him. It hadn’t eased the weight in his chest or his shaking hands, but it could be worse.

“You okay, Kylo Friend?

Virgil’s head snapped up. A boy his age was stood in front of him, head tilted to the side. He recognised him from his drama class (the clear theatre geek of the lot) – dressed in mostly red with golden hair pushed back and pretty brown eyes.

He felt himself go all hot. The boy was still staring at him.

“Uh – yeah, I’m fine,” he coughed, clearing his throat.

The boy jumped up on the wall next to him. “You’re all lonesome. I think you need a friend.” He stuck his hand out. “I’m Roman, Roman Prince.”

Virgil paused, staring at Roman’s hand before taking it, though hesitantly. “Virgil Foster.”

“You’re in my drama in block D, right?”

Virgil nodded, still surprised that someone was talking to him. “Yeah.”

“How are you finding everything? I was supposed to be at Trost Middle School, but my brother got expelled from there on his last day, so they didn’t let me go there anymore. So, I guess I’m here!”

“He got expelled?”

“He’s an idiot, essentially. Lots of reasons why he had to go.”

Virgil smirked. “He sounds like fun.”

Roman smiled brilliantly, almost dazzling Virgil with his cheery laugh. “So, what do you want to try out for this year? I’m definitely taking part in the school play in Easter – and I want to try out for the football team – though it’s just because I want a varsity jacket – not that I can’t play with football – “

Roman waffled on whilst stuffing his face with a sandwich he pulled out of his pocket. Virgil didn’t have a choice but to listen to this slightly annoying, yet rather charming boy ramble on about himself and the lengthy tale that was the first half of their first day.

“– Anyway, that’s enough about me. What about you?” Roman asked, food spraying from his mouth.

Virgil screwed up his nose in slight disgust. “Can’t you close your mouth when you’re eating?” he said a little too sharply.

Roman frowned, looking offended. “I’m sorry, can’t you concentrate on yourself and not comment on other people’s manners? You don’t know if I have a muscle disorder!”

Virgil snorted. “Well, do you?”

“No, but that’s not the point!”

“Then what is the point?”

“The point is that you don’t say that kind of stuff around people!”

Virgil rolled his eyes at Roman’s exaggerated indignation. “You’re really dramatic, you know that?”

Roman flared his nostrils and jumped down from the wall, and Virgil had to hold back a laugh. “Pardon me for disturbing you,” he said shortly, before spinning on his heel and taking off across the school yard.

Virgil watched after him, cursing at himself for driving away a potential friend. Suddenly, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He turned it on and saw a text from Patton.

 **Popstar:** _you okay kiddo? how’s it going? Xx_

Virgil put his phone away, ignoring it, instead turning back to his pasta and attempting to steady his heartbeat and regulate his self-hatred.


	4. Chapter Four

It was the end of the last lesson of the second week. Logan and Patton were walking back to their houses. The sun was already beginning to set, the light streaming through the browning leaves of the trees, bringing out the golden hairs glinting on Patton’s head.

The two were beginning to become fast friends – at least Patton thought of Logan as a friend. He couldn’t help but think he had pushed himself onto him and that Logan was just walking along with him out of obligation. He tried not to think about it too hard.

Instead, he focused on Logan, who was rambling about their latest physics assignment. Patton was transfixed by how articulate Logan could be when talking so rapidly, how someone so composed and put together could be so expressive with his hands and facial expressions – and how beautiful he was when he did anything.

Patton bit his lip, frowning at that thought. Not that it was an unpleasant one, but –

“Patton?”

He shook his head, refocusing on Logan, who was looking at him with an eyebrow raised. “Yeah?”

“You didn’t answer me when I asked you what you were planning on writing for the fourth question,” Logan said. “Lost in thought?”

“Yeah, nothing special,” Patton replied. “I haven’t really figured out what I’m going to write yet.”

“I understand.”

They stopped in front of Patton’s house. He rocked back on his heels, about to bade farewell when he realised Logan was staring at him.

“What?” His voice was soft.

Logan didn’t reply straight away, still looking at Patton with some form of curiosity. The sun shone between the two of them, Logan’s face illuminated with a warm glow. Patton noticed that freckles dusted Logan’s face, making him look softer and sweet.

“You fascinate me,” Logan eventually said.

Patton tilted his head slightly. “Me?”

“Yes.”

Patton looked further into Logan’s eyes, trying to search for some clarification.

Logan, thankfully, elaborated. “You are so joyful all the time. You are capable of keeping a smile on your face all day without fault. You radiate a warmth that is impossible to stay away from.”

Patton felt himself flush in pleasure, transfixed by Logan’s stare. “Really?”

“Indeed,” Logan nodded. “It’s intriguing how you can keep up that front all day.”

Patton frowned. “Front?”

“Yes,” Logan confirmed, seeming so matter of fact. “The front you maintain to appear happier than you are.”

Patton stumbled back, confused and slightly angry. “And this is something you know?”

“It’s rather obvious, Patton.”

He knew Logan didn’t mean to sound patronising, but Patton couldn’t help but feel like Logan was pitying him, as if he had been analysing him this entire time – not entering his company because of friendship, but because he was a project.

Patton backed further away, horrified that tears had so easily come to the surface. He could feel his hands shaking with contained anger. “Thanks, Logan. Thanks for pointing that out.”

He turned around and walked quickly to his front door, ignoring Logan’s call after him, slamming the door shut. His parents were not home from work yet, and Virgil was most likely in his room, so he was saved from any embarrassment.

It hurt because Logan was right. And he hated that he had been feeling this way for almost four years and he had hidden it from his family and his friends, and all it took was his next door neighbour who had observed him like a lab rat for several weeks to undo it all in one conversation.

Patton wasn’t okay. But he tried so hard to be.

He shook himself, ignoring the pit beginning to grow in his stomach, and began to ascend up the stairs, tapping on Virgil’s door as he passed to let him know he was home. He shut himself away.

*

He still wasn’t asleep.

It had gone past midnight, and Patton’s eyes didn’t feel any heavier. He had finished reading _The Murder of Roger Ackroyd_ , a book Logan had lent him. He had been messaging Dexter until half an hour before, listening to him gushing about Remus until even he had tired of the subject.

Patton got up, dragging his pillow and duvet along with him, going to his window and opening it up. He lay down on the roof, looking up at the sky. The nights were yet to get colder, so he could lie down freely with no extra layers over himself.

Clouds had drifted over most of the sky, so few stars could be seen. The night was quiet and unbroken, with only the sounds of Patton’s breathing escaping into the air.

Patton looked to Logan’s room, feeling a pang as he saw the light was still on. He wished – willed even – that Logan would appear. The longer he stared, the more he lost hope.

The light eventually turned off, and Patton looked away, sighing.

When he looked back, Logan was there. And he was staring at him.

Patton sat up, looking back at him. Logan slowly opened his window and clambered out, carefully balancing on his roof. He paused, as if waiting for Patton to give him an order.

Patton beckoned with his hand, patting the space next to him. Logan stepped forward, pausing to judge the distance between his roof and Patton’s, before jumping, being careful to land lightly without losing his balance. He padded over to the duvet, carefully sitting himself down next to Patton, looking at him with a careful expression.

The two sat in silence for a while, not quite uncomfortable, but by no means natural. Patton brought his knees to his chest, trying to keep his breathing easy.

Logan broke the silence. “I realise that I overstepped a line,” he said quietly. “I shouldn’t have made an assumption about you when I haven’t known you all that long. Especially an assumption that is considered a deep and personal matter. I am sorry, Patton.”

Patton looked over to Logan, who appeared uneasy – he was looking at his hands on his lap, clenching and unclenching his fists.

“It’s okay, Logan. I may have reacted the way I did because – well, because there was some truth to what you said.”

Logan looked over to Patton. “If you ever want to talk about it – “

“I think it would be best to leave it alone, Logan,” Patton interrupted, flashing a quick smile. “Let’s put it behind us, okay specs?”

Logan smiled slightly at the nickname, his forehead creased slightly with worry, but relented. “Okay, Patton. As you wish. I wouldn’t want to make a friend uncomfortable.”

Patton smiled back shyly. “A friend?”

“Of course.”

And that was all that needed to be said. Patton scooted closer to Logan, tentatively resting his head on his shoulder. He felt Logan tense up slightly before relaxing, letting his head drop onto Patton’s.

They sat there for a while, resting against each other. Patton knew he had found a friend. And he knew that the warmth he was feeling inside, the way his heart began to pound harder when Logan took hold of his hand, the way butterflies seemed to erupt in his chest and abdomen – those feelings had to be ignored if he wanted to keep Logan as a friend.

And that’s how he kept things. As the years crawled by, as the two grew older and closer, Patton kept his feelings hidden, so well that at times he forgot how he ached for Logan.

When Logan gifted him with an original edition of _Emma_ by Jane Austen for his birthday, he smiled and thanked him. When Patton got glasses halfway through freshman year and Logan straightened them for him, brushing his hair out of his eyes, he ignored the shiver than ran down his spine. When Patton had given Logan _A Brief History of Time_ by Stephen Hawking and a detailed model of the solar system for the Christmas of their sophomore year and Logan had smiled so widely with excitement, Patton looked away from the gorgeous sight.

And when they had entered junior year, when they had celebrated Virgil’s fifteenth birthday, when they walked to and from school, when they sat on their rooftops talking about the future – Patton kept his mouth shut and kept his distance.

And when the beginnings of senior year rolled around, Patton was hopelessly in love with his best friend – but at that point, it was even a secret to him.


	5. Chapter Five

“Virgil! Come on, kiddo, we’ll leave without you if you don’t hurry up!”

Patton heard a groan from inside Virgil’s room as a response. Shaking his head, he went downstairs anyway. Logan was lent against the kitchen side, his travel coffee mug in hand.

“Is he up?”

“Who’s to say.”

Logan exhaled a short huff of laughter before turning back to his book. Patton had recently hounded on him for never having read the _Harry Potter_ series, so had given him his collection to read. Though Logan protested against such childish books full of make-believe, going through with pointing out each inconsistency and plot hole in the magic, Patton knew that Logan was enjoying them.

A mass of black eventually found its way down the stairs. Virgil had well and truly wrapped himself up in the emo phase, painting his nails black, experimenting with eye shadow, and listening to bands that Patton couldn’t understand because they would scream the majority of their lyrics. He had finally got his hands on some hair dye in the summer, and had put purple all over his hair, much to his parents’ dismay.

Patton ruffled his hair as we walked past him to the fridge. “Can’t be late, can we kiddo?”

Virgil shrugged him off. “Whatever,” he replied, his voice hoarse. “Logan, how can you be so neat so early?”

“To be presentable is key to success,” Logan answered proudly. “MIT won’t take a second glance at a no-good slob.”

“Won’t take an arrogant prick either,” Virgil replied snarkily, though with good humour in his tone.

As Virgil had grown, him and Logan had secured quite the friendship, probably because they both were driven more by deep thought rather than emotions – and as lovely as it was to have Patton be the physical embodiment of sunshine, it was nice for the two of them to be able to stay grounded as Patton bounced around them.

“Are ya ready, kids?” Patton asked, doing an accurate impression of the pirate off SpongeBob. Logan rolled his eyes and Virgil sighed, walking past him to leave the house.

“Ah, this takes me back to when we first walked to Belle Vue together, teach,” Patton mused, walking between Logan and Virgil. “Can’t believe that was three years ago! Can you?”

“I mean, it feels like time has passed at its normal perceived rate,” Logan replied. “Though, yes, it is odd how time seems to either stretch out or ebb away from us.”

“Time sure has gotten away with us. We’re practically elderly men! And Virgil, who’d’ve thought that you would one day be taller than your ol’ Popstar?”

Virgil kept looking forward. “Who would have indeed.”

Patton frowned, trying to get a closer look at Virgil. “Is everything okay, buddy?”

Virgil nodded tartly. “Doing just fine, Patton.”

The rest of the walk was mostly quiet; Patton and Logan discussed their midterms and finals for the year whilst Virgil put in his earbuds and started listening to his music.

As they approached the school, Patton spotted Dexter and Remus standing by the front gates, wrapped around each other to the point that Patton couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began. Logan looked at them passively, a sight he had gotten used to but still didn’t overly appreciate. Virgil didn’t bother hiding his disgust.

Dexter untangled himself from Remus, smirking at the three walking towards them. “My apologies – this must be some ungodly sight to see.”

Remus cackled, straightening his bright green blazer. “Of course, you can continue watching, but you’ll have to pay extra for the full show.” He winked at Virgil, who blushed slightly.

“Don’t accost my brother,” Patton said sternly, turning to Virgil. “I don’t need him becoming a part of your matched set.”

Such words couldn’t be farther from the truth; Dexter’s black turtleneck and long yellow coat couldn’t have clashed more horribly with Remus’ obnoxious green jacket and pants – however, the eccentricity of which both boys radiated made them seem perfect for each other.

Virgil stared at Remus, seeming distracted by his features. Remus noticed and tipped him another wink.

“Cat got your dick, Hot Topic?”

Virgil’s eyes widened slightly, but before he could say anything, a voice sounded from further into the grounds.

“Remus! Stop hounding people! Especially people I’m friends with!”

Roman had walked over, glaring at Remus, who rolled his eyes. Virgil smiled and blushed at his arrival but was quick to put on his sour expression.

“Sorry about him, Virgil,” Roman said. “He still hasn’t learned to keep his mouth shut around anyone.”

“You’ve got that right,” Dexter purred, pulling Remus’ face towards him. Everyone grimaced as they kissed a little too passionately.

Roman pulled on Virgil’s arm, disbanding him from the group. “Come on, let’s get in there before it gets too crowded.”

Virgil followed, waving at Logan and Patton.

“Wait for me after lesson, kiddo! Come find me if you have to!” Patton called after him. Virgil didn’t turn around.

Meanwhile, Roman and Virgil went through the entrance, passing the new freshmen’s picking up their timetables.

“You can tell why your brother would be the one to get expelled,” Virgil commented.

Roman sighed. “I wish he had more of a filter. Trust me, when Dexter comes over, it’s like he doesn’t even care that we share a wall, let alone if our mom is home.”

Virgil cringed at the thought. “Sounds delightful.”

“Unsavoury is the word I’d use,” Roman grumbled.

“You would know, Princey.”

“I thought I asked you to stop calling me that!”

“When have I ever listened to you?”

“I think it would do you some good! I’m still right about that eyeshadow – you’re doing it all wrong.”

“I’m doing it the way I want it.”

“With a mirror?”

The two kept bickering away. They never seemed to stop, always finding something to argue about. Virgil still couldn’t quite comprehend how despite their constant squabbles, the two had been inseparable since that lunchtime in middle school. Sure, Roman would constantly give him nicknames, Virgil would roll his eyes at his theatricality, and the two would butt heads on almost anything, but they had created an alliance, a bond. If Virgil were on the brink of an anxiety attack, he would call Roman to calm himself down. If Roman couldn’t get his lines right for his drama class, Virgil would stay up and help him rehearse until he was word perfect. As much as they were ‘rivals’, they were also friends.

As more people milled around him, Virgil felt himself grow more and more claustrophobic. His teenage years had not treated his anxiety kindly. He walked around most of the time feeling like he was going to pass out at any second. He always had his nails bitten down as far as possible – a nervous habit – which was just as well because of how hard he would clench his fists to supress his panic at times.

Virgil had vowed to keep it under wraps. If Patton found out, he would be swaddled, and he had long since grown out of his need for his brother. Not that he would say it out loud.

*

Patton felt himself zone back in as Mr Thompson droned on about DNA. He straightened up, pushing his glasses up his nose and kept taking notes. He looked to his left where Logan was sat. He looked up at Patton immediately, flashed him a small smile, before turning back to his notebook.

He tried not to keep staring, pulling his head back to the front of the classroom. He tried to keep up with Mr Thompson’s stream of jargon, but found his head dropping down, his pen falling out of his hand.

Patton’s brain felt heavy. Even though he had his glasses, he still felt his sight swimming before him, the board becoming a blur.

He kept fading in and out, unable to concentrate on the conversation about chemical modifications. Even his favourite subject, Biology, couldn’t bring him out of his funk.

“Mr Foster?”

Patton’s head snapped up suddenly. “Wah?”

The class were all looking at him. Mr Thompson was standing there, hands on his hips. His eyebrows were raised.

“Paying attention?” Mr Thompson asked dryly.

Patton swallowed, feeling himself grow hot. “Yes, sir.”

“Then I’m sure you’ll be happy to remind everyone what is involved in the wrapping of the chromatin structure.”

Patton was drawing a blank – yes, he hadn’t been listening, but he honestly knew his stuff, so it was worse that his mouth had gone dry and his memory seemed to be wiped clean.

He felt a tap on his knee, As subtly as he could, he looked down to see Logan had pushed his notes over his own. His pen was resting by a small paragraph.

Patton cleared his throat. “Histone protein core. With further – further crosstalk between methylation and histone modification to co-ordinately affect chromatin and gene expression.”

Mr Thompson sighed slightly, turning about to the board. “Eyes up and about more, Patton.”

Patton nodded, looking back down. He put his left hand under the table, tapping Logan’s knee twice – _thanks_.

Logan tapped back once – _you’re welcome_.

The lesson finished up rather quickly after that, with Mr Thompson setting them three pages of their textbook. Patton swiped his stuff into his bag quickly.

“Thanks for saving me,” he said to Logan, grinning gratefully.

Logan nodded mildly. “It’s no problem,” he replied, carefully packing his bag up, placing his pencil case and textbooks neatly into order. “Though I must advise that you pay more attention in class from now on. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you almost falling asleep in your other sciences.”

Patton swung his bag on his back, avoiding eye contact. “I’ve just been tired, that’s all. Recovering from the summer.”

“You barely did anything,” Logan interjected, walking out of the classroom, Patton following behind him.

“Well, it’s stressful thinking about midterms and finals,” he said weakly, falling into step with his companion.

“Well, I understand why. But they are not for a while. Surely that isn’t already on your mind.”

“Always be prepared.”

“Seems like I’ve been teaching you well.”

Patton laughed lightly, closing his eyes as they exited the school, the dull sunlight hitting his face.

Logan walked beyond the school gates, hitching his bag strap further up his shoulder. Patton slowed his steps, turning around.

“Aren’t we waiting for Virgil?” Patton asked.

Logan looked at Patton, as if he were taking pity on him. “I think he might be best left alone, Patton,” he said gently. “He’s not a child.”

“I know but – but won’t he worry that I’ve abandoned him?” Patton’s voice was full of concern.

Logan put his hand on Patton’s shoulder. “He’ll be fine. Trust me.”

Patton ignored the way his shoulder sparked after Logan’s hand slipped away, nodding slowly before continuing walking. “Logan…you and Virgil get along well, right?”

Logan seemed to ponder the question. “We have similar interests. We also seem to be on a similar frequency as each other. Why?”

“Would you – I mean, could you talk to him?”

“About what?”

“Well – he seems so distant lately. I mean, I know kids grow up, and he’s not really my little brother anymore, but he seems – he seems to be avoiding me – well, not avoiding me per say, but doesn’t seem to enjoy my company much anymore – or is that a brother thing? Not that you would know but – oh dear, that came across quite – I’m sorry – “

Logan yet again grabbed Patton’s shoulder, stopping his ramblings. “You’re working your head overtime,” he said softly. “But if it will ease your conscience, I will speak to him. I trust you do not want me to mention that you are directly concerned?”

Patton shook his head. “Definitely not.”

“I’ll never understand that,” Logan said, thinking aloud. “But as you wish.”

“Thanks, Logan.” He nudged his shoulder.

As they reached their houses, they both automatically turned into Patton’s home, walking through the front door. Once they took of their shoes and placed their bags down, they moved to the kitchen – Patton grabbed two mugs from the cabinet.

“Coffee?”

“Please.”

“So,” Patton said, placing Logan’s mug under the coffee machine. “How’s everything with your parents?”

“The same,” Logan replied, leaning against the breakfast bar, crossing his arms. “Mother’s lost a lot of weight recently – Father’s worried about her.”

Patton took the mug out from under the dispenser, replacing it with his own. “Are you?” he asked, handing it to Logan.

Logan’s expression faltered slightly. He looked down at his coffee. “I know that she’s older than the average mother for people our age. And it is almost an inevitability that people grow more susceptible to sickness as they get older. So, I can’t let myself get upset about the inescapability of her decline.”

Patton walked over to the breakfast bar with his coffee, jumping up to sit on the surface. “There’s nothing wrong with worrying about it, Logan. She’s your mom.”

“I know. But I don’t want to take away from her attention.”

Logan clenched his jaw, trying to set his expression back to neutrality. Patton sipped at his coffee, trying to think of some reassuring things to say. He loved Veronica – heck, she was almost like a second mom to him. Knowing that she was becoming weaker and no one really knew why worried him, and he couldn’t imagine how Logan was feeling.

The two drank in a comfortable silence. Logan finished his mug surprisingly fast, placing it back on the kitchen side. He looked up at Patton sat opposite him, whose legs were crossed as he drank away from his Winne the Pooh mug.

“Patton?”

“Hm?”

“Your parents…how much do you and your parents argue?”

Patton raised his eyebrows. “My parents? I mean, the normal amount, I guess. Why’d you ask?”

Logan swallowed. “I don’t know. I know parents and children argue – living in the same quarters increases your chances of finding things to fight about – but I can’t help but believe that the way my father and I disagree is beyond the norm.”

Patton shifted. “Some fight more than others. It doesn’t have to mean anything bad.”

“Maybe so.” Logan sighed. “Yes, maybe I’m overreacting.”

“If it worries you, then you should talk to him,” Patton suggested.

Logan snorted, looking out to the garden, jaw locked. “You know my father. You know that’s next to impossible.”

Patton grimaced. Matthew Sanders was a stoic and cold man – though Logan may look like him, he was nothing like how cold and unfeeling Matthew seemed to be.

“Still,” Patton tried to ration. “It’s always worth a shot, right?”

“I don’t know.”

It was rare when Logan would admit that he didn’t know something, which made Patton’s chest ache for him. 

Patton hopped down from the breakfast bar, walking over to Logan and put his hand on Logan’s upper arm. “You know, if it gets too much, you’re always welcome over here any time,” he said quietly. “And I’m sure I can help you talk to your dad if you need to.”

Logan looked at Patton, his mouth slightly agape. “Yeah. Yeah, I know,”

Patton opened up his arms tentatively. Logan rolled his eyes but accepted the hug.

Although Logan was a stiff and distant person who usually sniffed at physical affection, he all but melted into Patton’s arms, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and resting his head against Patton’s. Patton nestled his head in the crook of Logan’s neck, his arms encasing his waist, breathing in the familiar smell of mint. Hugs were rare from Logan, so Patton had to savour the warmth. His heart fluttered as he felt Logan’s face press into Patton’s hair.

The front door opened suddenly. Patton jumped away from Logan quickly, laughing nervously. Logan looked confused but regulated his expression.

Footsteps sounded on the stairs. Patton deduced that Virgil had gotten home. “Hey, Raven! How was school?”

“Fine,” came the short reply. A moment later, a door slammed shut.

Patton felt himself deflate.


	6. Chapter Six

Virgil, Logan, Dexter, and Roman were all sat on the benches outside during the break. Logan was reading _The Green Mile_ , trying to ignore Roman and Virgil’s bickering. Dexter was practising Poker against himself, seeing to differ between when he ‘won’ and ‘lost’.

“For the love of Archimedes, can you two keep it down?” Logan said to Virgil and Roman, sounding exhausted and irritated.

“When Princey learns to stop taking up all the space on this bench!” Virgil argued back, turning to Roman. “You don’t need to prop your legs up on my lap, I don’t want your dirt on my jeans.”

“A star must be supple at all times,” Roman declared, ignoring how Dexter snorted at his choice of words. “Rehearsals have been exhausting so I must rest.”

“Not on me!”

“Be useful to me, Tim Burton!”

“You are both incorrigible,” Logan stated, turning back to his book.

“You’ve got that right,” Dexter chimed in.

“Right, I must be off,” Roman said, standing. “Meet you after sixth period?” He put his hand on Virgil’s shoulder.

Virgil blushed involuntarily, nodding. “Don’t miss me too much, Princey.”

“My heart has already broken,” Roman cried out as he walked away. Virgil watched him go, turning back around with a soft smile on his face. It melted away when he saw Logan and Dexter staring at him; Logan with his eyebrows cocked and Dexter with a knowing smirk.

“What?” he asked, his eyes darting between the two nervously.

“I am not the one for romance, but I know that unresolved tension is known to increase stress levels and depression,” Logan said.

“And it makes everyone around you get more annoyed at your stupidity,” Dexter drawled.

“What?” Virgil felt his face grow uncomfortably hot. “What are you talking about?”

Logan’s eyebrows went even higher up his head. “Surely you’re not that unobservant.”

“Trust me, Logan. I know lies and the only ones he’s telling are to himself,” Dexter smirked,

Virgil shook his head, feeling his chest grow tight. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Dexter went to open his mouth, but Logan, sensing Virgil’s rising anxiety, shut his book and quickly started talking. “Don’t worry about it, Virgil. We were, figuratively, screwing with you. Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Virgil clenched his fists, steadying his breathing. Dexter looked over to him guiltily but returned back to his cards. “Sure, what’s up?”

“I’ve noticed that, as of late, you have been distancing yourself from your brother,” Logan said carefully, making sure he didn’t give away the fact that Patton had pushed him to ask. “I think he’s worried about you. Is there anything going on?”

Virgil frowned, looking at Logan. “No, there’s nothing going on,” he replied. And he meant it, as far as he was aware. Yes, he was not Patton’s little brother anymore, and yes, it was grating when Patton would call him a ‘sweet and sour shadowling’ in front of both of their friends and strangers at school, and yes, he was frustrated that Patton still seemed to protect him and act more like a parent than a brother –

But there was nothing going on.

“It’s all good, Logan,” Virgil kept talking. “Just a growing up thing, you know?”

Logan nodded, and Virgil was very glad that Logan was more focused on his book than his uncomfortable expression but was very aware of Dexter staring at him out of the corner of his eye. He stood up, excusing himself to go to the library, and scurried off across the field, trying not to think about Logan’s question.

Dexter watched Virgil go, turning over Virgil’s lie in his head. He knew to leave that information out of Logan’s reach, as he was a direct line to Patton and would not leave a filter between himself and his best friend.

“It’s funny how oblivious Virgil is to his feelings towards Roman, is it not?” Logan voiced aloud, looking over at Dexter.

Dexter was about to reply but a voice interrupted him.

“Hey kiddos! Are y’all having a tea party without me?” Patton bounded over to the picnic bench, sitting next to Logan and giving his shoulder a nudge. “How’s things with the tardy teacher?”

Logan put down his book and looked over to Patton, and Dexter saw his muscles relax, his mouth twitch into a short and small smile, his eyes creasing a miniscule amount.

 _How funny indeed_ , he thought, as he moved back to his Poker.

*

Roman and Virgil were sat in the park, a two-minute walk away from Roman’s house. Virgil was laid down in the grass, humming My Chemical Romance under his breath, with Roman sat next to him, head bent as he read his script for the school musical. Even in the late autumn sun, they were the only two around.

Roman sighed loudly, causing Virgil to turn towards him. “What’s up?” Virgil asked quietly, his eyes squinting in the sunlight.

“I’m just not sure that I’m going to be good enough for Phantom,” Roman said dejectedly. “I mean, look at this range!” He pointed to the sheet music. “Sure, I lucked out in the audition, but I don’t know how good my stamina is going to be.”

Virgil closed his eyes and rolled his head back. “At least you won’t need to put makeup on,” he snorted.

Roman batted his arm playfully. “Shut up, Vomity Central. I’m being serious.”

“Come on, Roman, you’ll be great,” Virgil said, patting his knee haphazardly. “You’ve always been amazing, even when you were Villager Three in seventh grade when your voice was cracking left and right – “

“Now you promised you’d never mention that again!” Roman cried, shoving Virgil. He fought back, laughing as Roman wrestled with him, both trying to dominate the other. Virgil eventually had Roman pinned below him, his knees on either side of his hips with his hands pinned above his head. They took a moment to get their breath back, their faces pink from laughing.

Virgil watched Roman huff out his last laughs, a sweet carefree smile spread across his face. The sun glinted in Roman’s golden locks, the gold flakes in his eyes sparkling. Virgil was transfixed, almost hypnotised by Roman’s radiance. Roman locked eyes with him, lips now just slightly parted as he looked up at the pretty flushed face hovering above his own, strands of purple hair falling over his eyes.

He unconsciously reached up and brushed Virgil’s hair away, his fingers barely touching his skin.

Virgil suppressed a shiver, still drawn in by Roman’s gaze and growing even more aware that his hand had not left Virgil’s face. The beauty, the tranquillity of the moment was something Virgil couldn’t bear to spoil. But he knew that he was treading into some dangerous territory, somewhere his anxiety would most likely never be prepared for.

Coughing nervously, he swung his leg over Roman clumsily, falling back so he was now sat apart from him. “Why don’t we start running through your lines? You need the practise,” he said, smirking as he picked up the script.

Roman sat up and snatched the book from Virgil’s hand. “I’ll have you know that I already know most of the first act off by heart!” he declared, flipping to the appropriate pages before holding them away from him. “Now, test me, J D-lightful.”

“Not one word out, Princey.”

Virgil saw Roman’s face flush again as he began to sing quietly.

“ _Insolent boy! This slave of fashion, basking in your glory_ …”

Despite no one being around, he kept his voice low, making the notes sound more eery and calm than the anger that was in the song. Virgil had to remind himself to look at the pages; every so often, he found himself staring at Roman, who was gazing out into the field, eyes half closed.

To fall in love with your best friend was a mistake that Virgil vowed he would never make. Truly, he hadn’t meant to, and Roman was the last person he could have imagined himself pining over. He was loud and obnoxious, bratty and always complaining when something didn’t go his way. He was snarky and rude; he would fire up under the slightest critiques and sulked for days afterwards.

But he was also kind and compassionate; he would cry at movies and give hugs almost as warm as Patton’s. He was caring and sweet, always cheering people on, and when he performed, he shone so brightly. The first time Virgil went to one of Roman’s plays, he was blown away by how incredible he was – not just his voice or his acting, but how he really came alive when in the spotlight. When he came out for his bows, Virgil was standing and clapping amongst the audience, unable to keep the smile off his face. Roman scanned the crowd and caught his eye, and when he seemed to sigh with an unspoken happiness at his presence, Virgil felt his heart leap in his chest. After the show, he rushed to Virgil and hugged him tightly, whispering in his ear; “I can’t believe you came. Thank you.” And with that, Virgil fell.

And here he was, still falling down a heavenly yet torturous never-ending tunnel.

“Virgil?”

He started out of his thoughts and refocused, seeing Roman’s confused face.

“Yeah?” Virgil coughed slightly. “Everything okay?”

“I asked if you could feed me my line,” Roman said. Unlike his usual loud tones, his volume was strangely gentle.

Virgil looked down at the script, still on the first pages. “Um – which one?”

“Were you following along at all?” Roman asked, chuckling quietly, shuffling closer to Virgil and plucking the script out of his hands.

“Sorry, Princey. Just got a little – um – distracted.”

Roman’s eyes flicked up to meet Virgil’s, holding his gaze. The tension pulled on Virgil’s heart and he tried not to let it show. He pulled the book back, keeping his eyes on the lines of song and dialogue. “Where are we going from?”

Roman paused before answering. “From the top, please.”

“Just so you can flaunt your talent, got it.”

“Shut up, Potter.”

Virgil smiled widely as Roman proceeded with his lines.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: mentions of cancer and use of alcohol

Patton was laid on his bed, staring at the ceiling with burning eyes. He had been frozen like this for almost an hour, yet no tears had spilled, and no life had entered him. At dinner, he had sat in an unusual silence; his dad and mom had asked him about his day, and he gave the generic answers. Virgil, as per usual these days, only looked at his dinner plate and said less than necessary. Once they had all cleaned up, Patton was the first to steal away upstairs, locking his door so no one would come in, not even Virgil. And here he was, his breathing the only sound apart from the ringing in his ears.

A buzz from Patton bedside table shocked him. He picked up his phone, flipping it over to see Logan’s name appear on his screen. He opened the text.

 **Sherlock** : _May you meet me outside please?_

Patton raised his eyebrows, but texted back.

 **Patton** : _Sure, specs. Need a blanket? Xx_

 **Sherlock** : _Yes please._

Patton got out of bed, going to the corner of the room to pick up his ‘going out on the roof’ blanket Virgil had bought him for his fifteenth birthday. He opened his window, seeing that Logan was already leaning out of the window. Patton’s stomach dropped when he saw the bottle of whiskey in Logan’s limp wrist.

He knew it was bad. Logan was not a drinker; he hated being inebriated because it stopped him from thinking clearly, so he often just stuck to water when drinking with the others. As Patton climbed out onto his room and passed over to Logan’s roof, he could already tell that Logan had been drinking for a while, or at least was very stressed. His tie was nowhere to be found, his shirt unbuttoned two out than normal, and his hair was sticking up from fingers running through it.

Patton held his hand open as Logan clambered out of his window. Logan didn’t take it, his eyes unfocused but his movements relatively steady as he waits for Patton to fan out the blanket. They both sit down, Logan cradling the bottle.

“Where’d you get that?” Patton asked quietly.

“Grabbed it from the liquor cabinet,” Logan replied flatly, taking a long swig. “No one was around.”

Patton frowned, his stern Dad-like instinct taking over. “I know there’s no school tomorrow, but I don’t think that’s the most responsible – “

“She has cancer.”

Patton stopped, his heart dropping instantly. He didn’t need to ask to know who Logan was talking about.

Immediately, he encased Logan in his arms without thinking, pressing the side of his face into his back. Logan just sat there, not pushing him away but not responding, as if he were frozen. His body was shaking slightly, and his breathing was laboured.

“I’m so sorry,” Patton whispered, squeezing him. “I’m so sorry, Logan.”

“Why are you sorry?” Logan asked in that same monotone. “It is not your fault.”

“It’s just what you say, I guess.” Patton pulled away, looking at Logan with worry. “How are you feeling?”

Logan still stared into nothing, taking another drink. “I don’t know what I’m feeling.” He looked at Patton, his expression blank except for how wretched he looked behind his eyes. “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do now.”

“How did you find out?”

“She collapsed at work this morning. Father was called and met her at the hospital, and they did some tests on her, finally. They found out she has some form of thyroid cancer – stage three – they didn’t really get the chance to specify. They’re still there. They called me an hour ago. I – I just assumed they were busy.”

Logan’s voice caught at the end and he held his breath. Patton ached for him, wishing he could find something to say but felt powerless.

“How’s your dad taking this?” Patton asked carefully.

Logan sighed, screwing his eyes shut. “He’s – he’s falling apart. He doesn’t know what to do with himself. I’ve never heard him cry before tonight. And I hope I never hear it again.”

He shut his mouth quickly and put his forehead on his knees.

Patton didn’t know what to do. Everything felt disjointed and unreal. Logan was about to see his world shatter apart and there was no way that anyone could piece this back together.

“Patton?”

He looked up to meet Logan’s broken gaze. “Yes?”

Logan seemed to be struggling with his words. The hand holding the bottle was trembling, so Patton reached over and gently took it off him, placing it carefully next to him. Logan ran his hand through his hair and tried to collect himself before speaking.

“Can you – I mean, if it’s not too impertinent – may I – please – please just – can you – hold me?”

Patton blinked, startled. He must have paused for too long because Logan began to turn away, clearly embarrassed. “Never mind. That was – it was too unnecessary – “

Hands found Logan’s face, thumbs stroking over his cheeks gently. He turned back to Patton, who was smiling sadly. “I’ve always got you, Logan. Whenever you need me, okay?”

He felt himself crumble, falling forward into Patton. He was once again embraced, hands gently stroking his back and hair as he allowed himself to be comforted. No tears fell – he couldn’t seem to summon a way to express how his world was burning.

Patton hummed gently into Logan’s ear, holding his friend close. He pushed down any butterflies that threatened to rise as he rubbed circles on Logan’s back, letting him get his breath back. After around ten minutes, he realised that Logan wasn’t going to let go anytime soon. His hands had curled around the front of Patton’s shirt, twisting the material in an agitated manner.

“Lo? I think we should go back inside,” Patton muttered, shifting away and running his hands to rest on his shoulders. “You need to sleep.”

Logan looked up, his lost expression returning. “I don’t know if I can.”

Patton pondered before pulling Logan up, holding his arm as he almost stumbled. Grabbing the whiskey, he guided the two of them over to Logan’s window, climbing in after his friend, leaving his blanket out on the roof.

Logan’s room matched how most people perceived him; everything was simplistic, with bare walls, a desk with his schoolwork neatly stacked on the surface, a bookshelf stuffed full of novels, and a bed with a navy-blue duvet neatly tucked into the wooden frame. The only embellishments in his room was the solar system model Patton had gifted him placed on his bedside table.

Logan stumbled slightly over to his bed, Patton still holding him under one of his arms. They both sat down on his bed, Logan still looking disconnected from reality.

“Have you brushed your teeth yet?” Patton asked. Logan shook his head, beginning to lie down on the bed before Patton propped him back up. “Come on, specs. Even if it’s just for a minute. I’ll get you a glass of water, okay?”

Logan nodded, walking slowly out of his room to the bathroom. Patton followed but went down the stairs quietly, despite no one else being in the house. He navigated easily to the kitchen, grabbing a water class and filling it up from the filtered tap, adding three ice cubes from the ice dispenser. On his way back to the stairs, he placed the whiskey bottle back into the liquor cabinet, making sure it was closer to the back so when Matthew and Veronica got home, they wouldn’t notice that some of the alcohol was gone. He walked back up the stairs, going back into Logan’s room.

He felt his face flush as he saw Logan standing shirtless, fiddling with his shirt to put it on. The two were comfortable enough to change in front of each other, so it wasn’t anything Patton hadn’t seen before, but his breath still caught in this throat seeing Logan’s slender figure and defined shoulders. Thankfully, his shirt was pulled on quickly, and Patton shut the door behind him.

“Here you are,” Patton said, handing the glass to Logan. “Drink a little.”

Logan gulped down the water, finishing half the glass in several seconds. He still had a million-mile stare as he lowered the cup. Patton took the glass off him, placing it down on his coaster on the bedside table. He pushed Logan towards his bed, encouraging him to get into his bed. Once Logan was settled into his sheets, Patton knelt next to him.

“Try to sleep, Lo,” he said quietly, pulling the duvet up Logan’s shivering body. “Come to me whenever you need me, okay? But promise me you’ll try to sleep.”

Logan fluttered his eyes, fighting against heavy eyelids. “Will you – will you stay? With me?”

Patton faltered, frowning again. He knew that Logan was fragile and slightly tipsy, but this slight desperation and neediness was extremely unlike him. Though he couldn’t think of much more that he would want than to remain with Logan through the night, he was so unsure as to what to do.

But Patton saw Logan’s need for someone. Despite his expression having returned to normal, his eyes were dull in the night and his body was still shaking slightly. And he felt his heart sink.

“Of course,” he replied softly.

Logan shuffled over, opening his duvet to let Patton in. Patton was thankful that he had already changed into his pyjamas as he climbed into Logan’s bed, turning off his bedside lamp. He rolled to lay on his left side, facing Logan who was laid on his right side. Even in the dark, he could see the outline of Logan’s face looking at him.

“Goodnight, Logan,” he whispered.

“Goodnight, Patton,” came a quiet reply. He felt a hand brush awkwardly against his shoulder before Logan turned over.

Patton shut his eyes, trying to ignore his heart pounding so hard he thought the bed would start to vibrate. He settled into the mattress and thankfully found himself quickly falling into a deep sleep.

*

When Patton awoke, he was aware that the morning sun was glaring too powerfully through the window behind him. He realised no one had shut the curtains and went to go to do just that when he noticed that it wasn’t going to be that easy.

His arm was trapped under Logan’s sleeping body, and he saw that his other arm was draped around his waist.

Patton froze, and he swore his heart stopped. The warmth of the body lying next to him radiated onto him – Logan was practically nestled into Patton’s embrace, his own hands tangled in Patton’s. Their legs just grazed each other, and Patton thanked God for small favours that they weren’t connected by the hips.

He didn’t know what to do. He wanted Logan to sleep but he knew he would freak out once he woke up and noticed their predicament. And yet, he didn’t want to let him go. He wished he could stay here all morning, just holding and protecting Logan.

So instead of moving out of bed, Patton decided to let himself embrace the moment, fluttering his eyes shut and shifting cautiously closer, gently pressing his face into the back of Logan’s neck, trying to drift back to sleep. He kept all of his thoughts on how Logan’s mom was sick in the hospital and that he was here for his best friend, and not about how his hips were now pressed into Logan’s backside.

Later in the morning, Patton felt Logan’s breathing become faster, indicating that he was awake. Much like himself, his entire body tensed, his hands freezing in Patton’s. He was about to pull away, about to apologise for his clear movement in the night, when Logan’s hands curled with his own and pulled them to his chest. Patton almost gasped but shut his mouth quickly, accepting the affection. He still didn’t really know what to do, debating in his head whether he should speak or move about. Logan seemed to be awake due to his entire body now its usual rigid tenseness but wasn’t giving any real indication of being aware of Patton’s consciousness.

The two lay there for a while, holding each other tentatively. As time stretched by, Patton felt his bladder start to betray him as he struggled to hide his need for the bathroom. Eventually, he couldn’t hold it in any longer and had to get up.

Patton carefully pulled his arm out from under Logan, who let him go easily, though still not turning around. Patton stood, glancing at Logan’s still figure before rushing to the bathroom. As he was washing his hands, he pushed down his hope that they could be able to resume the intimacy. Logan was not a cuddly guy and was mostly uncomfortable with overwhelming emotions and physical affection. To want to leech off it would be taking advantage of Logan’s sadness, and Patton wasn’t going to be that guy.

He walked back to Logan’s room, heart jumping when he saw Logan sitting up on his bed, looking at him as soon as he walked into the room. “Good morning,” he said stiffly.

“Hi,” Patton replied softly, tentatively sitting himself next to Logan, keeping several inches apart from him. “How are you feeling?”

“I have a small headache, but apart from that, I feel fine,” Logan stated. “I won’t keep you here any longer – I will see you on Monday.”

Hurt passed over Patton’s face, so quickly that not even Logan noticed. “Yeah, okay. If you need me, you know where I am.” He got up again and moved over to the window. He cracked it open and went to leave.

“Patton?”

Patton turned around. “Yes?”

Logan still hadn’t put his glasses on, so his eyes looked bleary and unfocused. His hair was a mess and his cheeks were lightly flushed from the morning warmth.

He looked so beautiful.

“Thank you,” he said, his mouth quirking into a small smile. “For – for staying.”

Patton smiled back, looking fondly at his friend. “Of course.”

He left quickly, grabbing his slightly damp blanket as he clambered back to his own window. As he shut the glass behind him, he sighed contently. Despite the fact that he would never have a replica of that night again, he knew he would hold it close to his heart. He wrapped his arms around himself, a flutter shuddering through his body, an almost sensuous tremble rumbling through his stomach. A grin overtook his face as he stumbled around his room, falling onto his bed with a laugh.

He was so wrapped up in his infatuation, Patton didn’t notice that Logan was watching him from the window, his head propped up on his hand, gazing at his friend.


	8. Chapter Eight

Christmas was fast approaching, and Virgil had only one present left to buy. He was rushing around with Dexter and Remus, who he had found practically screwing on a bench in the mall and dragged them away before it went too far. He only had to shop for Roman, by far the hardest to buy for. Even with Remus on his arm, his suggestions were either hard to go on or really inappropriate. So, he despaired over each store and he ignored several sex shops.

“Come on Virgil, you know him better than us anyway,” Dexter drawled, sighing heavily as Virgil dithered about in an art store. “Even Remus doesn’t know.”

“Excuse me, but I think I have a pretty good – “Remus started, a wicked grin on his face.

“Don’t say a dildo, dude,” Virgil almost shouted, giving up and walking out of the store.

“What’s wrong with that?” Remus asked, his arm draped around Dexter’s shoulders.

“He’s your fucking brother.”

“Touché.”

Virgil sat himself down on a bench by the fountain, putting his head in his hands. “I don’t know what to do,” he muttered.

Remus slid next to him, patting his knee. “So what if you don’t find the perfect gift? It’s not like he will disown you if you get him something a little shit.”

Dexter sat opposite the two, raising his eyebrows at Virgil. “You know, Roman won’t care if you don’t find him a present,” he said softly. “Even if it’s small, he’s going to love it.”

“But I’ve got all you guys something nice and he’ll notice if it’s not as good,” Virgil groaned. “What if he thinks I don’t give a shit about him?”

“And why, pray tell me, would that matter?” Dexter said slyly.

Virgil looked up, his expression slightly puzzled. “Because he’s my friend?”

Dexter tilted his head. “Just a friend?”

For a second, panic flashed over Virgil’s expression as he realised that Dexter knew more than he was letting on. He saw Dexter press his lips together, and sighed in relief, knowing that he wouldn’t say anything to Remus or anyone else.

Remus missed the interaction, instead slapping Dexter’s hand. “Leave the guy alone, darling, you’ve not been around my brother enough. Listen, Virgil.” He turned towards the younger boy. “Roman will accept any gift you give him, and I know you will find one that he will absolutely love. Don’t stress.”

Virgil exhaled, nodding at Remus. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“Hey, why don’t we stop for coffee, give ourselves a break?” Dexter suggested, standing up.

Virgil nodded, standing up with Remus. As he looked at the fountain, he was suddenly struck with inspiration. Keeping his excitement to himself, he followed the couple to the nearest Starbucks, supressing a gleeful smile.

*

It was the last day of school before breaking up for the holidays. Teens were walking around in Christmas sweaters, glittery accessories in their hair, and Christmas bags in hands.

Roman was stood next to Virgil, the two waiting for Logan and Patton to come from their Physics lesson. Roman had a large red puffy coat with black jeans and boots, cheeks rosy from the cool air. Virgil was in an oversized black sweater with purple-laced combat boots, his fingers peeking out of his sleeves. They were laughing together, still not quite having run out of playful insults to throw at each other.

“So, what are you going to do with yourself over Christmas vacation?” Roman asked, leaning against the wall, looking at Virgil.

“The usual,” Virgil replied, scratching his neck. “We’re having the Sanders family around because Logan’s mom is really sick right now, so we invited them to Christmas Day. What about you?”

“Visiting the cousins up in Michigan,” Roman sighed. “One of them, Remy, is exactly Remus’ cup of tea, and it’s a nightmare to be with the two of them. Dexter’s coming up with us this year as well.”

“Sounds like a fun time,” Virgil snorted. “I’m a call away if you think you might commit murder.”

Roman chuckled. “Good to know, my chemically imbalanced romance.”

Virgil smiled lovingly, mirroring Roman so they were both leaning against the wall opposite each other. They tossed quips back and forth, passing the time as they waited for the others.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” Roman cried, turning to grab his bag, rummaging around inside. “Wouldn’t do us good if I didn’t give you your gift until after Christmas.” He finally pulled out a red box wrapped in white ribbon, small enough that it fit in both his hands. A card was also held between his fingers, but when Virgil went to take the card, he held it back. “Open that later,” he said, smiling mysteriously.

Virgil raised his eyebrows but took the box, opening the wrapping carefully. Out fell a fidget cube, a small black dice with multiple dials, buttons, and switches on all of their sides. Virgil held it curiously, clicking experimentally at several of the buttons.

“I know it’s weird, but I read somewhere that it really helps with anxiety,” Roman said. “I thought it might help, you know, when you just need a distraction.”

Virgil looked up at Roman’s slightly anxious expression. “It’s – that’s great, Princey. Honestly, thank you so much.”

“No problem. But now you open this.” He thrust the card into Virgil’s hand, eyes sparkling. “Now, I know it’s slightly counter-intuitive to my last present, but I’m sure you will love it.”

Virgil unsealed the envelope, a Christmas tree embellishing the front. He opened it up and smiled at the message withing.

_Have yourself a merry little Christmas! Let your heart be light…See you in the new year. Lots of love, Princey xxx_

Slipped in the card were two tickets to the My Chemical Romance reunion.

Virgil felt his heart stop, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He had tried to buy his own tickets once they went on sale but had accidently fallen asleep when they were released. Yet, here they were, and they were for him.

“Virgil? You like them, right?” Roman’s voiced sounded frantic and distant. “I know you’re not great with crowds and you’ve talked about how you wouldn’t really know what to do in a concert setting – “

He was cut off by Virgil barrelling into his arms, almost knocking him over in the process. He clutched the cube in one hand and card with the tickets in the other, his arms wrapped around Roman’s neck so tightly that he almost lifted himself off the ground. He was slightly embarrassed to know that tears were in his eyes, but he pressed his face into Roman’s neck.

Roman reacted almost instantly, curling around Virgil’s waist and lifting him up, laughing at Virgil’s enthusiasm. “I guess you’re happy with it,” he chuckled, squeezing him hard.

“God, Princey, I just can’t believe it!” Virgil giggled, pulling away slightly to look at Roman, his arms still around his neck. “I can’t believe you bought these for me!”

“Well, believe it,” Roman smiled. Virgil lunged forward for another hug, mumbling his thanks on repeat. Only when he noticed he was taking in the scent of cinnamon did he realise he had been holding on for a bit too long. He untangled himself from Roman, grinning bashfully as he gently put his presents away in his backpack.

Virgil pulled out his own present for Roman, growing red with embarrassment. “This is going to be so mediocre now,” he mumbled. “I got you this – it’s not much, really.”

Roman gently took the rectangular gift out of Virgil’s hand, the blue shiny paper wrapped in silver ribbon. “I’m sure I’ll love it,” he said reassuringly, dimples popping out of his cheeks sweetly. He ripped open the present with less precision than Virgil, and when he got through the cardboard box, he gasped.

“Oh wow,” Roman whispered, pulling out the contents carefully. Inside was a crystal statue of Cinderella and Prince Charming dancing, the blue crystals on the bodice and hair shining subtly. Roman cradled the statue as if it would shatter any moment, transfixed by its beauty.

“Is that okay?” Virgil asked anxiously, biting his lip.

Roman looked up, his eyes shining with happiness. “God, Virgil,” he said hoarsely, clearing his throat before trying again. “You’re – fuck, you’re perfect.”

He gently put the statue back in the bubble wrapped box and placed it in his bag before grabbing Virgil’s face, smiling at him. “Thank you.”

Virgil blushed and could only smile back, his heart flipping over and over again. In the winter air, his face and heart felt warm, and all he could see was Roman.

“Hi kids!”

The two looked over to where the voice was coming from, seeing Patton and Logan walking towards them. Roman’s hands dropped back to his sides, but his closeness to Virgil did not waver.

Patton was waving wildly, grinning whilst being bundled in his Christmas sweater. Logan was pale but had a tiny smile on his face, his clothes no different from normal.

“Merry Christmas!” Patton cried.

Virgil found himself smiling at his brother, something he hadn’t done in a while. The four departed the school, walking all together in line.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: mentions of cancer   
> I have never experienced cancer in any capacity so I'm sorry if the representation is poorly written - enjoy the chapter!

Christmas Day had arrived; Patton had woken Virgil at eight in the morning, whisper-shouting that “it’s Christmas, Storm Cloud!” Virgil eventually climbed out of bed half an hour later and the two went down the stairs to see the tree lit up with presents placed underneath it. Once their parents had woken up, they tore through their presents like children, Patton shrieking in happiness every so often and Virgil unable to hold back broad smiles.

Patton passed his gift over to Virgil, grinning widely as Virgil opened the present, a pair of new headphones falling into his lap. His eyes widened, recognising the branding.

“Wow, Patton,” he said. “That’s – um – generous. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Virgil,” Patton replied, his cheeks rosy. “Now, how about a present for your ol’ Popstar?”

Virgil looked away, embarrassed by his enthusiasm and how his parents were cooing over their ‘close relationship as brothers’. He pulled a package out from behind him, tossing it to Patton. He opened it quickly, laughing as he saw a plaque with ‘Warning – Dad Jokes Ahead’ appear in the wrapping.

“Aw, thank you, kiddo!” Patton laughed, lunging forward to give Virgil a hug. Virgil freezes slightly, trying not to grimace as he pat his brother’s back, sighing once he let go.

The family cleared up the wrapping paper mess, eating a quick late breakfast together before prepping for the main Christmas dinner. Virgil stayed in the kitchen with his mother prepping the food whilst Patton and his father set the table and organised the decorations.

As two o’clock rolled around, a knock sounded at the door. Patton skipped through the hallway, opening up the door.

Logan, Veronica, and Matthew stood on the porch, all clean and well pressed. His heart sank slightly as he saw Veronica – she had lost a considerable amount of weight and her hair had grown thinner. Despite her clear illness, she smiled, though painfully.

“Hello, Patton dear. Merry Christmas.” Veronica stepped forward, wobbling slightly as she went to hug him. Patton clung to her carefully, terrified that he’d snap her in half. She moved away, patting his cheek gently.

“Merry Christmas,” Patton replied, smiling back. “Come on in.” He stepped to the side, letting Veronica pass. Matthew followed her closely, his hand on her back. He nodded at Patton, his expression still.

Logan was the last to step through, shutting the door behind him. He was sporting the tie Patton had bought him for Christmas (covered in snowmen and snowflakes) which made his heart skip a beat. He also looked thin, his skin taunt over his cheekbones.

“Hi, Patton,” Logan said quietly, sliding his shoes off carefully.

“Hey,” Patton replied, his eyebrows furrowed. “You okay, teach?”

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me.” Logan straightened up, giving a tight-lipped smile to Patton. They maintained eye contact, a small conversation passing between the two. As Patton reached out to touch Logan’s shoulder, a voice interrupted them.

“Boys!” Philip called out. “Dinner!”

The two jumped slightly but moved forward to the dining area. The table was set out for seven people; Philip was positioned at the head of the table, with Veronica, Matthew, and Andrea along one side, and Virgil, Patton, and Logan sat the other side. A cut of goose was sat in the centre, with roast potatoes, vegetables, and various sauces placed around the table.

Andrea was stood in a simple black dress and apron, holding a bottle of red wine. “Rioja, anyone?” she asked.

Veronica went to say yes, but Matthew frowned. “Not a good idea, honey,” he said a little too harshly. “I would love some, thank you.”

Logan also raised his hand along with Patton. Andrea walked around the table, filling glasses up, chatting away about Christmas and the holidays so far. She patted Veronica on the back, sitting back down at her chair. “Okay, serve yourselves up, everyone.”

Food was passed around, and soon enough, everyone had tucked into their food. Veronica’s plate was next to empty and she was struggling through her mouthfuls. Logan’s portion was also rather small; he was actively avoided eye contact with his father, who was glaring at him.

Small conversations were circulated amongst the sounds of cluttering cutlery against crockery. The atmosphere was a little awkward with Matthew’s coldness, Logan’s quietness, and Virgil’s apprehension, but Patton tried to carry conversations, smiling around at the others.

Patton noticed that Logan was getting refills on his wine more often than most of the others. By the time dessert rolled around, he swore than Logan had polished off his fifth glass and was turning to the port Philip was offering. He kept his concern to himself, instead watching how as the afternoon stretched out, Logan’s eyes became more unfocused and his movements seemed more dreamlike. Matthew’s lips became thinner every time he looked over at his son.

Eventually, the conversation moved to Veronica.

“So,” Andrea said, turning to look to her left. “How are you doing with your treatment, Veronica?”

Veronica bit her lip, looking down at her half-eaten trifle. “I’m coping,” she replied, a sad smile on her face. “It’s hard, I won’t lie – I’ve not started anything too strong yet, but they’re talking about starting chemotherapy in the new year if these meds don’t seriously improve my condition.”

Logan drank from his glass, staring into nothing.

Andrea looked sympathetic. “That’s good they’re on top of everything. And you’re comfortable at home? There’s nothing you may need for us to do?”

“We’re perfectly fine, thank you,” Matthew interjected, sounding snappy. “We’ve got Logan to pull his weight over the holidays – that is, if he would comply.”

Logan looked at his father, his expression unmoving. “I do anything Mother asks,” he said quietly but firmly. Patton looked at his friend. Virgil kept his head down, trying not to add to the conversation. Philip and Andrea both clenched their jaws.

Veronica looked between Matthew and Logan. “Logan has always helped me out, Matt,” she added, putting her frail hand on his wrist. “And he does a great job.”

“By having his head in a book all the time?” Matthew’s tone was cutting.

“I read to her,” Logan defended, his head now snapping up. His eyes were bleary. 

Veronica started nodding, but Matthew ignored her. “And what real good does that do?”

“I’m at home with her.”

“I hope you aren’t going to shame me about how I have to provide for you two in times like these.”

Virgil moaned quietly, running his hand through his hair. Patton reached out to touch his shoulder, but he shook him off. Patton’s expression was suddenly overcome with hurt.

Andrea stood up, her expression anxious. “Who wants coffee?” she asked, her voice higher than normal.

That broke the tension; Veronica stood up, offering to help, whilst Matthew drew his glare away from Logan to nod. Philip asked Virgil and Patton to help clear the table, which Patton gladly participated in. After a sharp word from Matthew, Logan also joined the two brothers, gathering plates and dishes into his arms.

The three gathered in the kitchen, washing the dishes and cutlery before placing them in the dishwasher. The adults stayed in the dining room, chatting quietly.

Virgil was struggling with his armful, trying to place the dishes of dessert down without them sliding off. Patton moved over to help him, his arms outstretched. “Here, let me – “

“I’m fine, Patton,” Virgil almost spat out, placing the dishes down on the kitchen isle. His expression was restrained, as if holding back an outpour of emotions.

Patton shrank back. “Have I done something?” he asked. “Is there something wrong?”

“It’s fine – just leave it be,” Virgil muttered, stacking up the plates and putting them in the dishwasher.

Patton went to grab Virgil’s hand. “Come on, you can tell your Popstar – “

Virgil turned around, his eyes fiery. “Stop calling yourself that!”

Patton recoiled, bringing his hand to his chest. He turned to look at Logan, but he was carefully stacking glasses into the top drawer of the dishwasher. He looked back at Virgil, who had lent on the kitchen isle, trying to catch his breath.

“Why?” Patton asked, his voice just above a whisper, feeling his throat close up. “Virgil, just tell me what I’ve done wrong.”

Virgil locked eyes with Patton, his expression uncomfortable and unhappy. “I get that we’re brothers,” he started, swallowing. “And I get that you care for me. I know we’ve always had this dynamic, but for Christ’s sake – Patton, I’m sixteen. I’m not a kid anymore.”

Patton started forward. “I know that, Virgil – “

“No you don’t,” Virgil interrupted, holding a hand up. “You still talk to me like how you did when I was ten. Yeah, I’m more anxious than I was, but I don’t need you going to hold my hand every time you think I need it! I’m growing up – I can take care of myself.”

Patton felt tears prick at his eyes and he blinked hard, embarrassed by his emotions. “I know that, kid – um, Virgil – but I’m just looking out for you.”

“I don’t need it!”

Virgil’s voice cracked from its volume. Logan jumped and a crash resonated, making Patton and Virgil start too. One of the plates had fallen on the floor, now littering the stone with pieces of china. Logan reached down along with Patton, his hand stretching out to pick everything up. A gasp hitched in Logan’s throat, and Patton saw blood drip on the ground.

“Oh, specs,” he whimpered, still holding back tears. Logan didn’t seem to notice the cut in his hand, still trying to pick up various pieces. His stare was so vacant, it frightened Patton.

Footsteps sounded, and the adults came into the kitchen. Patton heard Andrea gasp.

“Logan, what have you done?” Matthew called sternly. A small protest could be heard from Veronica.

Patton turned around. “It was my fault,” he said quickly, holding Logan’s wrist. “I dropped it. I’ll pay you back, Mom, I’m really sorry.”

Andrea shook her head, smiling slightly. “It’s one plate, Patton, it’s not a problem. What’s happened to Logan?”

“He cut his hand trying to pick up the china.”

“Well, he’ll be fine,” Matthew dismissed, waving his hand.

“Actually,” Patton said a little too loudly. “I think I’ll get out the first aid kit and bandage it up.”

Matthew pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing heavily. “I’m sure he’s just overreacting. He’ll be fine in a moment.”

Logan didn’t say anything, like he didn’t realise what was going on. He was still on his knees, his wrist limp in Patton’s hand.

Patton stood him up carefully, ignoring Matthew as they walked through to the laundry room, grabbing the kitchen roll on the way out, avoiding Virgil as he grabbed a broom to sweep up the mess.

He sat Logan down on a turned-over laundry basket, gently patting the cut before going into the cupboards, finding the mini first-aid kit and opening it up.

“What were you thinking?” Patton said softly, picking out the antiseptic wipes and bandages.

Logan was still staring into space, his head rocking back and forth slightly. “Needed to clean,” he muttered. “Needed to fix it.”

“You know my mom,” Patton said, taking Logan’s hand gently, inspecting it to check for any small shards of china. “You know that she wouldn’t get mad.”

“Not mom. Not her.”

Patton’s forehead creased slightly, unable to understand. “This will sting a little,” he warned, starting to tenderly wipe Logan’s cuts. He didn’t even flinch, which confirmed to Patton that Logan had definitely had too much to drink. Once the cuts were clean, he placed a clean cotton strip on the cut and wrapped a bandage around the palm of his hand, securing the cotton in place.

Logan was now looking at Patton, as if he had just woken up. “Why are you doing this?” His voice was quiet and slightly pained.

Patton looked up, still holding Logan’s hand in his two. “Why shouldn’t I?”

They gazed at each other, though Logan’s eyes were still unfocused. Logan’s hand tightened around Patton’s, ignoring how his blood began to seep through the cotton slightly.

“You – “his voice was unstable, wobbling precariously. “You are exceptional.”

Patton blushed. “I would hardly go that far,” he chuckled nervously, stroking his thumbs over Logan’s palms lightly. “You need to be careful with this, okay? Keep cleaning it and keeping it wrapped up so it doesn’t get infected – I can give you this for the time being.” He gestured to the first-aid kit.

Logan nodded numbly, still staring at Patton. Unexpectedly, he let his head drop so their foreheads connected (in his state, he didn’t know to be gentle, so their skulls hit a little painfully). Patton’s breath hitched slightly.

He stared intensely into Patton’s eyes. Deep in his own, Patton could see that Logan was suffering. Even though he wasn’t speaking and hadn’t really spoken since he told him about his mother’s diagnosis, Patton could now see that Logan was in so much pain.

Patton came to his senses quickly, moving away from Logan whilst propping his shoulders up so he wouldn’t fall. He grabbed some Advil from the kit, showing it to Logan.

“Wait about an hour, then take some of these,” he said quietly. “You’re going to feel that in your hand soon enough, and it won’t be pleasant. Okay?”

Logan nodded slowly, his stare now a million miles away.

They stood up – Patton took Logan’s hand, moving out of the laundry room with the kit in his other hand. When they entered the kitchen, Patton saw that the china had been cleaned up and that no one was around. He could hear voices in the living room, so he propelled Logan forward, walking through the hallway to the left.

Andrea and Philip were sat with mugs of coffee in their hands, chatting to Matthew and Veronica, who were sat on the other sofa; Matthew looked silently furious, whilst Veronica looked pale. Virgil was nowhere to be seen.

“All patched up!” Patton announced brightly, his fake smile plastered on his face. He presented Logan’s hand to his parents, who smiled nervously. Matthew sniffed, but Veronica smiled.

“Thank you, Patton,” she said, coughing slightly. “You’ve always been a sweet friend to our Logan.”

“Of course,” Patton replied, sitting down on the sofa with his parents, patting the space next to him for Logan. He smiled stiffly, slowly sitting next to Patton.

Veronica pushed for more conversation, though her throat began to strain, and her eyes looked almost as unfocused as Logan’s. Though the other adults and her son kept asking her if she was okay, she waved away their concerns, continuing to chat away.

Ultimately, Veronica had clearly become completely drained of her energy; Matthew had his hand on her back, his face screwed up with concern. Logan kept staring at her, looking vacant.

Matthew stood up, pulling Veronica up carefully. “I think it would be best if we had a lie down,” he said, grimacing slightly. “Thank you so much for this Christmas dinner, and I’m sorry for any inconveniences we’ve caused you.”

Andrea stood up as well. “No problem at all,” she replied sweetly, going to Veronica’s other side to help her. “It’s been a pleasure – any help you need, we’re one door away.”

Matthew looked at Logan, his look disapproving. “I think it would be best if you were out of the way tonight, Logan. It’s going to be a difficult night.”

Patton flinched on Logan’s behalf, growing more upset about how harsh Matthew was being to his son in front of everyone. Logan looked unaffected. Veronica looked upset but didn’t say anything.

Philip stepped in. “If it would help, Logan can stay here tonight if it would be less – um – upsetting for you all.”

Matthew nodded, not looking at his son. “That would be best, yes.”

Logan stood up, looking disjointed. “I’ll get some stuff,” he mumbled.

Matthew walked out the door, not looking back.

*

It was now almost eleven pm; Logan was gone for half an hour to gather his overnight stuff and came back looking slightly more sober and more pained. Throughout their leftover tea, he kept flexing his bandaged hand, looking down at his plate.

Virgil didn’t join them for the rest of the day. Patton couldn’t help but feel a slight resentment towards his brother, though he would not allow himself to think about their earlier confrontation.

Now, Patton and Logan had brushed their teeth and were heading towards Patton’s room. As they had shared a bed so many times before, they both clambered into Patton’s double bed, settling down almost automatically. The two lay in silence, though not an awkward one.

Logan lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. He had long since sobered up (he popped two Advil before bed), and his focus was just as sharp as always. Patton was also on his back, for some reason scared to look at his friend.

“So,” Patton said in the quiet, turning his head to look at Logan. “Is your mom okay?”

Logan kept looking at the ceiling, his eyes wide, “She’s getting worse.” His voice was steady, but Patton could detect a slight waver in his tone. “I really don’t think Christmas dinner was a good idea – she’s been sick ever since she got home.”

Patton bit his lip. “I’m sorry. I hope she had a good time all the same.”

Logan nodded, swallowing hard. “Um – “

Patton shuffled closer. “Everything okay?”

Logan’s chin and lower lip was trembling. He kept swallowing and Patton could hear his teeth grinding together. Patton reached out slowly under the covers, fumbling slightly to touch Logan’s bandaged hand.

“I – “Logan began, stopping as his voice broke. “I – “

His breath hitched in his throat. And in an instant, tears started to stream down the sides of his cheeks.

Patton felt himself panicking – this was a first seeing Logan cry, and it was terrifying. Out of all his friends, Logan was the most put together and the least emotional, so to have his friend break down in front of him was jarring and something he couldn’t comprehend in the moment.

So instead of thinking, he propped himself up on his elbow, moving his left hand over to cup Logan’s face gently. Logan looked at him, and Patton felt his heart break. His eyes were red and leaking, his forehead strained, his lips trembling uncontrollably, and his eyes full of pain and uncertainty.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Patton whispered, the endearment slipping out without thinking. He snaked his arm around Logan’s shoulder, pulling him to his chest. Logan instantly latched his arms around Patton’s waist, his face against his shoulder. Patton could feel Logan shake against him as he began to sob uncontrollably, clinging to the other boy like he was a lifeline.

They embraced in the dark, their bare chests pressed together, their legs entangled. Logan cried in earnest, small whimpers and gasps escaping every so often. Patton’s shoulder was becoming increasingly more wet, but he didn’t mind – all he cared about was rubbing Logan’s back, soothing him through his breakdown.

Patton rolled so he was on his back and Logan was now on his chest. He pressed his lips to the top of his head, holding his friend close and rocking him gently.

“I’ve got you,” he muttered over and over again. “I’ve got you.”

Patton didn’t know if Logan calmed himself down or stopped crying. Sleep eventually pulled them both under, still wrapped in each other’s arms.


	10. Chapter Ten

Patton felt himself come to, his eyes heavy. Through his blurred vision, he read 04:20 on his clock. He turned his head to look down at the sleeping boy on his chest, feeling a rush of warmth run pleasantly through his body.

Logan looked peaceful as he slept. There was no tautness or rigidness in his expression; his eyes were closed lightly, his mouth relaxed, lips slightly puckered. There were dried tear tracks still on his cheeks, which shone dully in the streetlight streaming through the crack in the curtains.

Patton moved his hand up and carefully ran his fingers through Logan’s hair, smoothing his bangs back away from his eyes. Logan shifted under the touch, his own eyes fluttering open slowly.

Patton withdrew his hand. “Sorry,” he whispered. “Didn’t mean to wake you up.”

Logan looked up, cheek squished against Patton’s chest. He maintained that soft expression, eyelashes fluttering against sleep. “It’s fine,” he muttered back. “Was struggling to sleep anyway.”

“You can move if you want – “

“No,” Logan said a little louder. “No, I’m comfortable here.”

Patton’s heart flipped. “Okay. I mean, whilst we’re up – you wanna talk about what happened?”

Logan pressed his lips together, staying silent for a while. For a second, Patton worried that Logan was going to close himself off and roll away.

Then he sighed. “I guess it was – well, I think it’s just everything.”

Patton shuffled so he was now sat up, pulling Logan up so they were both elevated. He adjusted his pillows, so Logan’s back was against the bed frame and Patton was sat facing him, legs tucked to his side, leaning slightly against Logan’s thigh. He took Logan’s hands in his own, stroking them with his thumbs.

Though Logan wasn’t wearing his glasses, he looked at Patton with a sense of clarity. “I’m not taking Mother’s sickness well. I think that’s clear to anyone that knows me.” He huffed out a small chuckle, his grip tightening on Patton’s hands. “The reason Father told me to stay away was because he took Mother to the hospital after dinner. They haven’t called me since, but I know it’s getting worse.”

Patton stroked up Logan’s arm sympathetically.

“And Father is – well, you saw him,” Logan said bitterly. “There’s not one conversation we’ve had in the past month that hasn’t ended in an argument. He thinks I’m being selfish about Mother’s illness and that I’m being too difficult. Like I think it’s an inconvenience.”

“Why would he think that?” Patton asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Well, have you been distancing yourself from your mom?” Patton tilted his head slightly. “You tend to drift away when you don’t want people to know how you feel.”

Logan frowned. “I haven’t noticed.”

“When you don’t want people to know that you’re hurting, you let yourself walk away.” Patton moved closer, squeezing Logan’s hands. “Do you remember when you and Dexter had that massive blowout in sophomore year? Now, I don’t know why, but you shut off for weeks. You didn’t speak up unless someone spoke to you and you stayed out of Dexter’s way. If it weren’t for Remus pushing Dexter over to apologise, you probably would have never spoken again.

“My point is, you hold yourself back and keep it all away because you don’t want to project your feelings onto other people. You’re so used to being this strong and stable person, that you don’t allow yourself to feel.” He slid his hands up to cup Logan’s face, who was gazing soulfully at Patton. “I see it in your dad as well, but he gets angry and he lashes out. And you two need to talk. Maybe you’re not ready or you don’t know how, but you two need to grieve together. But if you are not ready for that, then you can always grieve with me.” He smiled sadly.

Logan stayed silent, transfixed. His hands were curled in his lap, his cheeks warm under Patton’s hands. His eyes flickered from Patton’s eyes to his lips, and Patton felt his heart stop.

Logan’s voice was low and gravely. “I – I can’t quite grasp what I did to deserve such a wonderful person to stand by me in my life.”

His hands slid up to rest on Patton’s hips, fingers clenching into his skin. Patton’s breathing was becoming laboured as the two drew closer in the dark.

“I’ve always got you, specs,” Patton murmured, his heart racing as he felt their foreheads connect, his hands starting to sweat against Logan’s cheeks. “What are friends for?”

Logan blinked and paused, then swallowed, as if it pained him. “Indeed. Friends,” he said almost inaudibly. His touch loosened on Patton. Out of nowhere, he yawned, letting his eyelids droop. “I think it would be best if we tried to get in a few extra hours of sleep.”

Patton moved back slightly, disappointed at the shift of mood, but smiled encouragingly. “Sure.”

Logan moved back over to his side of the bed, pulling the pillows down back to their original positions. He lay down, facing towards Patton, pulling the duvet over his waist. Patton settled down and turned away, adjusting his pillow.

After a moment, he felt an arm slide over his waist. He inhaled sharply.

“Is this okay?” Logan’s voice sounded anxious and tight.

There was a pause before Patton exhaled a breathy “yeah.”

Logan began to trace small circles distractedly on Patton’s stomach, his nails grazing his skin in a way that was torturous. They gravitated towards each other, so Logan’s front was flush against Patton’s back, skin to skin. Patton could feel his heart jumping out of his chest as Logan’s hands explored Patton’s stomach and chest. When his fingers glanced over Patton’s nipple, he tried to stop himself from lurching forward, feeling how he was growing hard from the intimacy and sheer want he was holding back. His hands pinched his legs to stop himself from making a noise when Logan stroked along his ribs to his hips, now becoming increasingly aware of another hardness pressing into his ass.

He knew that Logan didn’t feel the same way. He knew that this was spiralling out of his control, and that he would explode if he had to keep his love and desire for his friend hidden any longer. He knew Logan was vulnerable and probably searching for affection he wasn’t receiving at the moment.

He knew this as he felt himself fall asleep, despite the ache in his crotch begging for more. As for Logan’s own predicament, he knew that was just a result of their closeness. Logan couldn’t want him. Logan couldn’t love him.

*

Logan went home in the early morning. As soon as they woke up, he had clambered out of bed and got dressed, not looking at Patton. He left with a brief nod and a thank you, not even before nine.

Patton stayed in his room most of the day, barely noticing when his parents went out for a morning and afternoon walk without him. When they went out in the afternoon, he was laid on his bed, stealing glances at the window next door, disappointed every time when he saw the blinds remained closed.

His thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock at the door. He frowned, thinking he was the only one at home.

Virgil walked in, his head hung, and shoulders hunched. He looked tired and anxious, trying to hide as much of himself as he could.

Patton sat up. His thoughts had been so occupied with Logan, he had completely forgotten about the awkward encounter in the kitchen. He was hit with the memory of Virgil’s anger and harsh words.

An awkward silence stretched between the two brothers. Virgil stood by the end of Patton’s bed, biting his nails. Patton looked at his younger brother, waiting for him to talk.

“Look, Patton, I didn’t mean to snap at you yesterday,” Virgil began. “I shouldn’t have said that in front of Logan.”

“So you meant it?” Patton tried not to let his voice crack.

Virgil sighed, moving over to sit on Patton’s bed, clenching his hands together. “Yes,” he said dejectedly.

Patton shuffled over to be next to Virgil. “But I thought you loved me.”

“I do love you, Patton, but I don’t need to be treated like a precious angel all the time.” Virgil ran a hand through his hair. “I know you’re looking out for me and you’re just showing that you care about me, but it just feels weird now.”

Patton swallowed, understanding where Virgil was coming from. He knew he was too coddling sometimes. His love for Virgil was one of the only things he was sure about, and even that had been compromised.

“I understand,” he said quietly. “I’ll leave you alone from now on kid – I mean, Virgil.”

Virgil looked at Patton, his eyes widening. “I still like hanging out with you, Patton. You’re one of my friends and you’re so fun. Just, you know, lay off all the cutesy nicknames and just let me do my own thing, okay?”

Patton nodded, smiling slightly at his brothers. “Still a dynamic duo, right?”

Virgil returned the grin, clapping a hand on Patton’s shoulder. “Always.”

The two shared a small embrace, patting each other’s backs before pulling away. “How’s Logan? Is he okay?” Virgil asked.

“I’m not sure,” Patton answered, shaking his head. “It’s a hard time for them all right now.”

“It’s horrible,” Virgil agreed. “At least he’s got you, right?”

“Yeah. Right.” Patton pressed his lips together.

“It’s hard to be there for someone in a time like this.” Virgil seemed to be thinking out loud. “Especially when you’re in love with them.”

Patton’s head jerked, his body going tense. “Wha – what are you talking about?”

Virgil raised his eyebrows, his expression mildly exasperated. “Don’t even try to pretend that’s not true,” he said. “Even if I wasn’t your brother, I would spot it from a mile away.”

Patton didn’t let himself feel bothered that his brother knew his biggest secret and pushed past it. “Yeah, it’s – um – it’s worse than normal.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s so vulnerable and, as a result, really in need for affection. And it’s great, don’t get me wrong, but it’s not fair on Logan because he doesn’t feel the same way, so I’d just be taking advantage of him.”

Virgil kept his eyebrows raised, shaking his head as Patton kept rambling. He decided not to say anything – it wasn’t his place.

“Look, Patton, I know it’s hard to be around Logan right now, but all he needs right now is a friend. And once this all – “Virgil coughed uncomfortably “– blows over, so to speak, then you can tell him how you feel.”

Patton shook his head. “I could never tell him,” he said. “He’s my best friend. I couldn’t lose him like that.”

Virgil pat his shoulder again, in a hidden mock sympathy. “You wouldn’t. Logan loves you, and no confessions would inconvenience his perception of you as a friend.”

Patton sighed heavily, dropping his head on his lap. “I don’t know,” he groaned. “Things would just be easier if I didn’t feel this way.”

Virgil’s thoughts moved to Roman at that sentiment, and he sighed as well. “Yeah, it would be.”


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: implied sexual content near the end of the chapter

Roman was reading his script upside-down on his bed, muttering his lines under his breath. Virgil was sat on Roman’s carpet, looking through his phone, sneaking glances at his friend. The show was over a month away and Roman was panicking. Logan, Patton, Dexter, and Remus were revising for their finals, so were keeping themselves to themselves. Logan and Patton were working over Physics together, and Dexter and Remus were currently at Dexter’s house working together, which made Virgil feel grateful he wouldn’t have to listen to their antics through the walls.

Roman groaned aloud for the seventh time in ten minutes.

“What now?” Virgil grumbled, throwing his phone down.

“This scene will be the bane of my existence,” Roman cried, shutting the book.

“I thought you learned all your lines?”

“I have, but I don’t know how to act it out in a way that will do justice.”

Virgil shuffled closer. “Which scene is it?”

Roman slid off the bed carefully, flopping on the floor next to Virgil. “It’s the scene under the theatre, the one with the standoff between Raoul and Phantom, and the kiss between Christine and I.”

“What, the scene when you’re all dramatic and murderous?” Virgil snorted, looking down at Roman. “Sounds right up your alley.”

Roman smacked him slightly. “It’s not necessarily the rage part – though it could do with some work.” He sat up, leaning against his bed. “It’s the kiss. The girl playing Christine, you know, Kaleigh, is great and it should be easy. But I can’t put the passion needed into the scene.”

Virgil screwed up his nose unconsciously. “Why?”

Roman coughed, his face now flushing with embarrassment. “Well, one – I’m hella gay – and two, I never – well, I’ve not really ever – “

Virgil raised his eyebrows. “Kissed anyone?”

Roman cringed and nodded. Virgil felt himself grow hot, swallowing softly.

“Have you?” Roman asked quietly. He was looking at Virgil, his lips parted slightly.

Virgil felt alarm flash in his chest and spluttered out a strained “yeah.” Roman’s eyebrows disappeared under his hair. “Really? Who?”

“Um – you remember Victor Heath? Yeah, for a dare in the music block after school in eighth grade.” He felt his face grow even more red from his almost lie – true, he did technically kiss Victor, but it was a peck and he had quickly rushed away after the incident. Not that Roman needed to know.

“Right.” Roman’s expression was now unreadable. “Well, do you think you could – um – help me out a little?”

“How so?”

Roman’s face was now a deep magenta. “Could you – you know – could I practise – with you?”

Virgil’s mouth dropped open. “As in – kiss you?”

They stared at each other, the tension starting to grow. Roman began to shake his head, ready to dismiss the idea, but Virgil grabbed his hand awkwardly. “If it will help, then sure!” He cringed at his tone.

Roman looked at him with wide eyes. “Oh! Great, then.”

They sat together in another strange silence, unsure what do to. Eventually, Roman stood up and offered a hand to Virgil. “Phantom and Christine are standing in this scene.”

Virgil stumbled as he stood up, finding his footing as he looked up slightly at Roman. His friend was several inches taller than him, something Roman would tease him about mercilessly. Now, neither of them were laughing.

“Um,” Virgil stuttered. “So, how does this go? You need to act out the scene, or just practise – um – the kissing stuff?”

“Just the kissing,” Roman confirmed, stepping a little closer to Virgil. “This is fine, right? You know because we’re friends.”

“Yeah,” Virgil echoed, now only inches away from Roman. All he could see was his lips. “Because we’re friends.”

Their fingers touched lightly. Roman looked into Virgil’s eyes, flicking all over his face before focusing on his mouth. Virgil knew he was doing the same.

It’s not real, Virgil thought as they gravitated closer together.

_It’s just a kiss._

He could feel Roman’s breath on his lips.

 _Just a kiss_.

He could count his freckles if he wanted.

_Just that._

Their lips brushed.

_A kiss._

Roman’s lips were chapped and a little dry, pressing clumsily against Virgil’s peeling ones. They were pressed at a strange angle, prolonging the connection before moving away slightly. Virgil’s breath was short as he stared at Roman.

“Is that what you’re looking for?”

Roman bit his lip and Virgil thought he might die.

“Um – it’s actually quite a – quite a passionate one.” Roman’s voice was raspy.

Virgil nodded, licking his lips in anticipation. It was no less awkward the second time they connected lips. Virgil didn’t really know what he was doing, and it was obvious that Roman was no more educated. Roman made to move his lips against his and their teeth clicked together. Virgil laughed nervously into Roman’s mouth, who returned the slight chuckle.

Virgil kept working on interlocking their lips, eventually settling into a rhythm. Their movements were slow and experimental, not quite moving into the passionate drive of the scene they were practising.

Roman moved his hands up to tentatively hold Virgil’s waist, giving Virgil an indication to place his hands on Roman’s shoulders, tugging gently on his hoodie. They were stood very still in the centre of Roman’s room, forgetting about the world and instead focusing on each other.

They broke apart after a minute. Roman’s chest was rising more than normal, and he was staring into Virgil’s eyes intently, his hands trembling around Virgil.

Virgil cleared his throat. “Good?”

Roman nodded, looking back down at Virgil’s mouth. “Oh yeah.” And he pulled Virgil close, kissing him again.

Virgil gasped, his hands involuntarily pulling Roman closer by his hoodie. Roman exhaled heavily out of his nose, moving a hand up to hold the back of Virgil’s head, jerking on his hair, causing him to moan. They kissed with enthusiasm, holding each other tightly and rocking slightly. When Virgil dared to slide his tongue over Roman’s bottom lip, Roman groaned in such a sinful way that Virgil thought he would explode.

It wasn’t until the sound of the front door banged open that they jumped apart. Virgil touched his swollen lips, looking at Roman who was mirroring his actions.

“Roman!” Remus’ voice rang out from downstairs. “You would not believe the head I received today!”

Roman cringed, his expression full of disgust. “We have guests!”

“Well then, I’ll happily tell them too!”

Roman called down another irritated reply to his brother. Virgil took the time to recover and push back what just happened. _Just a kiss. Just a kiss._

Roman turned back to Virgil, smiling awkwardly. “Well,” he huffed. “That definitely did the trick, eh, Storm Cloud?”

Virgil spluttered out a laugh. “Yeah, you’re welcome. Will that suffice for your performance?”

Roman picked his script back up, smirking to himself, a pink tinge still on his cheeks. “Might need to find a replacement. Clearly, Victor was a shit teacher.”

Virgil threw a weak insult back, sitting down on Roman’s bed, ignoring how his heart was still racing in his chest. He cursed at himself for letting himself get lost in the kiss when it didn’t mean to Roman what it meant to him.

_Just a kiss._

*

Remus tried to regulate his breathing back to normal, a lazy smile on his face. Dexter’s face was laid on Remus’ thigh, looking cockily up at his boyfriend. “Nothing quite like that for a break during studying, huh?”

Remus let out a small cackle, pulling Dexter up and kissing him languidly, tasting himself on Dexter’s tongue, pulling his lower lip between his teeth as they parted. He pulled his boxers back up, allowing Dexter to straddle him, holding his hands.

“Are you hoping for anything in return, my love?” Remus asked suggestively, letting go of Dexter to run his hands up and down his thighs.

Dexter sighed, moving his hips against his boyfriend. “Maybe later. We’ve still got some work to do, remember.”

“Oh, fuck that.” Remus sat up, running his hands up his shirt seductively, raking his nails on his skin.

Dexter bit back a moan and clambered off Remus, giggling. “Down, boy.” He grabbed his Psychology folder, rifling through the pages. “Isn’t Virgil around at yours with Roman?”

“Yes,” Remus answered, putting his hands behind his head. “God, I can’t believe those two haven’t banged out all that tension yet.”

“Gross.” Dexter wrinkled his nose. “Don’t say that about your barely-of-age brother.”

Remus sighed in exasperation. “Fine – I can’t believe they haven’t Seven Minutes In Heaven’d it out yet.”

“I can’t help but agree. If I have to watch Virgil drool openly over Roman giving us a mini performance again, I will give him a hearty slap.”

“Not that our other company is any better. You can see that hopeless gay energy runs in the Foster family.”

Dexter snorted. “Hopeless gay mixed with oblivious gay will equate to a sure disaster.”

“It’s a good thing I can’t keep a secret for the life of me,” Remus purred, touching his boyfriend’s chin, pulling it to face him. “Otherwise there’d be a trio of pathetic gays.”

Dexter smirked, biting his lower lip. “I don’t know, I think we might be the worst of them all.”

Remus pulled Dexter towards him, kissing down his neck, rolling him on his back as he trailed down his body. “I’ll take being bad over being clueless,” he mumbled against Dexter’s hip, making a slow job of pulling down his jeans.

Dexter’s hips bucked up, sighing in pleasure as he felt Remus palm him through his underwear. “You really need to work on your sexy talk.”


	12. Chapter Twelve

It was the first performance of The Phantom of the Opera; Patton, Logan, and Virgil were sat in their chairs on the front row, holding programmes in their hands. Dexter and Remus were celebrating their two-year anniversary, so had promised to come to the performance the next night.

“I still can’t believe this school think they can pull off Phantom,” Virgil grumbled, looking at the closed purple curtains on the stage.

“Sounds like you haven’t got any faith in Roman,” Patton said ruefully, moving his coat around on his seat.

“On the contrary, I think what Virgil is referring to is the competence of the school rather than Roman’s performance,” Logan piped up, browsing through his programme.

“Exactly,” Virgil confirmed. He looked over to the sides of the stages, seeing the curtains shifting as the actors peeked out at the audience. He saw a flash of white and recognised it as part of Roman’s mask.

“I’ll be right back,” he muttered, getting up and walking over towards the stage.

Patton looked at Logan, who was staring blankly at the stage. “You okay?”

Logan peered back, pushing his glasses up on his nose. “I’m alright. I don’t understand why we’re entertaining fictional shows with non-sensical songs, but as we are here supporting our friend, then I guess it’s okay.”

Patton chuckled slightly, nudging his friend’s hand with his little finger. Logan instantly hooked his own around Patton’s, pressing his lips together.

He looked like he would drop dead any second – the bags under his eyes had only grown as finals drew ever closer and as his mother grew weaker. There had been countless nights where Logan would clamber into Patton’s room late at night and would fall asleep in a warm comforting embrace. Patton kept his mouth shut and let Logan find his peace with him, ignoring his aching heart.

Though Logan was still very stiff with public displays of affection (despite his increased desire), he still went out to find some way to hold onto Patton in a casual or subtle manner, like a connection of their knees or, like now, a little link of their fingers.

Meanwhile, Virgil had walked through the doors which lead to a corridor connecting to the backstage area. Costumes were strewn on the floor and actors were rushing around, calling out for mic tape.

He scanned around, staying out of everyone’s way. Several teens threw him dirty looks as they moved around, prepping for the show. He shifted uncomfortably, hoping that Roman was going to be about.

Thankfully, Roman made an appearance, all made up with his black wig slicked back, mask, and tuxedo. He smiled upon seeing Virgil, striding over to him quickly so he was in front of him.

“Hey, Virgil,” he said, sounding slightly breathless. “What are you doing back here?”

“Um – I just wanted to wish you good luck,” Virgil replied, smiling anxiously. “I’m sure all of that practise will pay off.”

“Thanks, Storm Cloud.” Roman looked a little confused. “Are you okay? You look a little distracted.”

Virgil shook his head. “Just a bit worried about you breaking the mic once you open up that mouth of yours.”

Roman rolled his eyes playfully, smirking at his friend. Virgil felt his knees go weak.

Ever since their kiss, Virgil’s thoughts had spiralled out of control. He couldn’t get Roman out of his head and it took all of his restraint all of the time to stop himself from grabbing Roman and kissing him silly. He knew that he would die if he had to suffer with this secret for much longer.

A girl interrupted their conversation; Virgil recognised Kaleigh dressed in the classic white Christine gown, her coppery curled hair clipped elegantly up. She ran a hand on Roman’s arm in passing.

“Ten-minute call,” she smiled, tipping him a wink. Virgil felt his mouth sour, his stomach twisting in a slight jealousy.

Roman smiled after her, turning back to Virgil. “Might be good for you to find your seat soon,” he said, smoothing his blazer.

Virgil nodded, swallowing painfully. “Yeah – good luck, dude. You’ll be great.”

Roman bit his lip. “You think so?”

“How can you not?”

“You know, I just don’t think I have it. I mean, I can do everything I need to do, but…I just don’t know.”

Roman sounded nervous, something that Virgil was expecting. He took Roman’s hand, smiling encouragingly. “Look, how many times have you done this? And how many times have you knocked it out of the park?”

Roman shrugged. “A lot, I guess?”

“Exactly,” Virgil affirmed. “You’re amazing, Princey. You are one of the most talented people I know, and I know for a fact that you will be incredible as Phantom – both by your looks and your voice.”

Roman blushed slightly as he shoved Virgil. “You mean it?”

“Of course.” Virgil swung their intertwined hands, squeezing slightly. “I’ve been looking forward to this for ages. I mean, the practise kiss definitely made me want to stick around.”

Roman raised his eyebrows. “What?”

 _Shit_. Virgil realised what he said, and his eyes widened. “I mean – you know – seeing the show, I meant. Like – like, seeing if it paid off.”

Roman’s expression had shifted to one of confusion. His hand had gone stiff in Virgil’s. “Paid off? You want to watch Kaleigh and I make out?”

“No! God no, that’s – that’s the last thing I want to see!” Virgil was now panicking, feeling his face grow hot with embarrassment. “Jesus, that would make me feel so weird – “

“Why is that weird?”

“Um – “

“It’s just acting, Virgil. Are you really that much of a prude?” Roman was now frowning. “It’s not like you were against it before.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Virgil said weakly. He could feel it coming – a crack. He could see kids staring at them and it made him itch.

“Well, it sounds like you’re too immature to watch a performance like that.”

“It’s not like that!”

Roman sighed irritably, putting his hands on his hips. “Then what is it – “

“Well, fuck me for not wanting to see my best friend kiss someone else!” Virgil snapped loudly, pulling his hand out of Roman’s grip. “You know, it’s not all fun and games being around you all the time, flaunting your talent and laughing too loudly, and in general making it a nightmare to be around you. It’s not like _you_ have to push all of that hurt and discomfort away when you’re asked to practise a kiss on your best friend for a role, a first kiss that wasn’t even real! It’s not like _you_ have to spend every waking minute thinking about your friend that you are so gut wrenchingly, hopelessly, fuck you God in love with, and knowing that it’s only going to hurt you! Yeah, fuck that.”

Virgil knew halfway through his outburst, he should have shut his mouth. But now, he was standing breathless, his heart shattering apart in his chest. Somehow, they were several steps apart than they were before.

Roman looked nothing short of shocked. His mouth was hanging open and his eyes were darting around, not quite focusing on Virgil.

Virgil instantly regretted everything.

Roman went to open his mouth, but Virgil cut him off.

“Break a leg,” he choked out, turning around and walking away quickly, blinking rapidly as tears began to prick at his eyes.

He sped walked back to his seat, sitting down and exhaling heavily. Patton looked over upon Virgil’s arrival.

“You good, V?” he asked, looking concerned,

Virgil nodded vigorously, just focusing on the stage. Thankfully, the lights went down, and the band started to play the overture. The three watched the curtains open as the musical began.

*

They were way into the second act; the show so far had been exceptional. Roman was perfect for the role of the Phantom, as was Kaleigh for Christine. When Roman sang _Music of the Night_ , Virgil felt a shiver pass through his body. He felt tense in his seat through the entire show, still unable to get his outburst out of his head. He could see that Roman was performing as if nothing had happened, so he knew how he felt.

He tried not to let it get to him.

When the kiss between Roman and Kaleigh came up, Virgil couldn’t look away. As it was scripted (and practised), it was beautiful and passionate; Kaleigh cradled Roman’s face as he grabbed onto her waist, pulling her in close. Virgil swallowed, a sinking feeling overtaking his stomach as he watched the scene. He looked down at his lap when it became too painful to look at.

The rest of the musical was amazing, however, and when the cast came out to give their bows, the three boys all stood up to perform a standing ovation. When Roman came on, Patton whistled and grinned wildly, Logan clapped politely, and Virgil gently put his hands together. Roman saw them almost immediately, smiling at them, his eyes landing on Virgil last. Virgil looked down quickly, unable to maintain eye contact.

When the lights came back, Virgil stood up, grabbing his jacket. “Need some fresh air,” he gasped, hurrying past Logan and Patton.

He rushed out of the hall, walking out of the entrance and going out to the field next to the school, eventually finding their normal bench. He sat down, finally letting all the tears he had been holding back fall.

Virgil knew he had ruined their friendship forever. As painful as it was to be around Roman, he would pick being his friend over being nothing at all in a heartbeat. And now, all there was going to be from now on would be awkward silences, or maybe even no friendship at all.

Virgil put his head down on the wood, trying to wipe the tears away from his face. He had to get over this – he hated feeling so crippled by his feelings, hated crying over rejection and pushing people away. He had to accept that he wasn’t going to get what he wanted, and that he shouldn’t get so upset that someone didn’t love him back.

He looked up at the sky, looking at the thin light of the sun setting over the horizon. The darkness of the night had already began to stretch over, the stars beginning to twinkle in the sky. Virgil sighed, allowing the cool air to wash over him.

Suddenly, he heard the pacing of footsteps on the grass behind him. Virgil turned around to see Roman walking slowly towards him. He had changed out of his costume into a large black sweater and white jeans, and had removed his makeup, so he had some strange smudges on the right side of his face. He looked tired and nervous as he approached Virgil.

Virgil stood up suddenly, feeling his heart drop as he prepared for his rejection. As Roman stepped closer, Virgil began to talk, looking down at his feet.

“Look, Roman, I know that what I said came out of the blue, but I really think it would be better if we forget about it.” Roman was almost in front of him which made Virgil unconsciously stumble back. “I didn’t mean to distract you and I shouldn’t have said it, I was just angry, and I wasn’t really think – “

He was cut off by Roman’s hands pulling his face up gently and his lips pressing against his own.

Virgil felt his mind go blank and swore his heart stopped.

He couldn’t quite register that Roman, his crush Roman, his best friend Roman, was kissing him – and it wasn’t for practise.

His hands were frozen by his sides. After several moments of no real response, Roman pulled away, looking worried, his hands still holding Virgil’s face, fingers resting on his cheeks and jaw. “Um – would you believe me if I said I still needed the practise?”

Virgil suddenly found himself giggling, letting his hands cling onto Roman’s forearms. “Practise makes perfect after all.”

Roman’s worry melted away to an expression of happiness. “By the way, if it wasn’t clear – I love you too.”

Virgil felt butterflies erupt in his chest and euphoria wash over him. “Oh…that’s great.”

Roman started to giggle himself, connecting their foreheads together. “That’s one way to say it.”

Virgil ran his hands up Roman’s arms, settling on the sides of his chest. “I don’t think you can really say ‘too’ when I didn’t say it first.”

Roman smirked, licking his lips. “I’m not going to stop you,” he murmured, leaning in.

This time, Virgil was ready, welcoming the kiss with a smile already on his lips. Unlike their ‘practise’ or the previous, this kiss was slow and gentle and loving. Virgil could feel fireworks exploding in his heart.

This time Virgil pulled away, looking deeply into Roman’s eyes. “I love you,” he muttered, hearing his voice crack slightly with emotion. Roman peppered multiple kisses all over his face, making the two laugh again.

An excited cry sounded in the air, making the pair turn around. Patton and Logan were stood together; Patton was grinning and was shaking Logan’s arm; Logan looked deterred by Patton’s excitement, but otherwise pleasantly surprised.

Virgil hid his face in Roman’s chest in embarrassment, feeling it vibrate from his laughter.

Patton turned to Logan, beaming, “Isn’t that sweet? Remus and Dexter are going to flip!”

Logan looked at Patton, smiling wanly. “Yes…quite adorable.”

His phone began to ring in his pocket. Patton watched Logan swipe across the screen and held it up to his ear. “Hello, Father.”

As he listened, Patton grew worried as he saw Logan’s expression freeze and his face go grey. After a while, he answered a short ‘oh’ and then hung up.

“What’s wrong?” Patton asked, squeezing his arm.

Logan kept staring off into nothing. It seemed to take him several seconds to process the question.

“Mother’s in hospital,” he said quietly. “They think – they think that this is it.”

Patton felt his stomach drop. “Oh God. Oh shit.”

Logan seemed frozen, his hand clenched around his phone so hard Patton thought it may shatter. Patton took his hand.

“I drove here tonight – I can take you to the hospital, okay?” Patton shook his hand slightly, thankfully getting Logan’s attention. “We can go right now.”

“Uh – yes. Yes, that would be helpful.” Logan seemed so far away. Even though he was looking at Patton, he seemed to be staring right through him, completely enslaved to the news he had just received.

Patton looked back over to the new happy couple, who had started walking over to them. Upon seeing their expressions, they started to look anxious. “What’s wrong?” Roman asked.

“Logan’s mom is in hospital,” Patton answered. Roman and Virgil mirrored their expressions of horror.

“Are you going down there?” Virgil questioned, finding Roman’s hand.

“Yeah, I’m going to drive Logan down now,” Patton said breathlessly, taking his keys out of his pocket. “I’m sorry, V, you going to be okay getting home?”

“I can walk with him,” Roman piped up. Virgil looked at him gratefully, and Patton couldn’t help but feel warmth flood his chest, despite the situation.

“Okay then.” Patton tried to stay calm, pulling at Logan’s hand as he started to walk towards the car park. Logan followed blindly, stumbling along as if his legs were numb. “Tell Mom where I went – let her know about Veronica,” he called behind him to Virgil, driving himself forward.

They walked across the grass, passing over to the silver Volvo. Patton unlocked the car, climbing into the driver’s seat, watching Logan fall into the passenger’s seat. He took his hand again, squeezing hard.

“I’ve got you here,” Patton murmured, turning the key. Logan looked over to Patton, his eyes wide and vulnerable. “We’re going to be with you through everything.”

Logan nodded slowly, pulling on his seatbelt. Patton pulled on his own, pressing his foot on the accelerator, moving the car forward. They pulled out of the school car park, driving down the road towards the direction of the hospital.

They drove in tense silence, no music or radio filling the car. All Patton could hear was Logan’s short and panicked breathing, gasping for air as if he were being deprived of oxygen. Patton had seen enough of Virgil’s panic and anxiety attacks to know that Logan was having one, and it killed him to know there was nothing he could do at this moment. He couldn’t even look at him, keeping his eyes on the road.

They arrived quickly at the St Abigail Hospital. Patton parked haphazardly, grabbing coins out of his wallet to feed to the parking meter. Logan stayed frozen in his seat as Patton rushed to and from the meter, throwing the ticket on his dashboard. He walked over to the passenger side, opening the door. “You coming, specs?”

Logan tried taking a deep breath, his hands now shaking uncontrollably. “Uh – yeah.”

He clambered out of the car, tripping over his feet and falling into Patton, who thankfully caught him and propped him up under the arms. He shut the car door, leaning his friend against his car.

“I’ve got you, okay?” Patton murmured, rubbing Logan’s shoulders. “I’m going to be there the whole time. Just breathe – take a second to breathe.”

Logan tried to inhale, his breath getting stuck in his throat. Patton kept stroking his shoulders, soothing him through the moment. Once Logan collected himself, he nodded.

“Let’s go.”

They walked towards the entrance, Patton holding Logan by the elbow. They approached the receptionist, a middle-aged woman with her hair in a ponytail.

Logan cleared his throat. “Excuse me, ma’am. My mother was admitted earlier as an emergency. Her name is Veronica Sanders. Could you tell me where I’d find her?”

Logan’s voice was steady and sure, though Patton could feel him trembling.

“One moment, please,” said the receptionist, turning to look at the computer. She spent several seconds scrolling through the database before turning back to the pair. “She’s in intensive care in a critical condition – family only.”

“I’m her son,” Logan confirmed. “Where can I find her?”

“Intensive care is to the right – she’s on ward seven. Your father is there now.”

“Thank you.”

As if fuelled with a new energy, Logan rushed through the corridors, Patton following closely behind. After several sharp turns and a couple of collisions, they found ward seven. Patton saw Matthew sat in a chair in the waiting room, his head on his knees. He looked up as he heard footsteps. He stood up suddenly; he looked dishevelled and wreaked beyond belief.

Patton stood aside to leave the two alone. He watched them talk briefly before Logan turned back to Patton.

“They won’t let us in right now,” Logan choked out. “She’s not stable at the minute – we have to wait.”

Patton nodded. “Okay. We can sit here together – you want anything to eat or drink?”

“I don’t think I can stomach anything right now.”

Patton guided Logan over to the benches, sitting them down. Matthew sat next to them, staring into nothing, his eyes bloodshot. His hand reached out to rest onto Logan’s shoulder, as if he would fall if he didn’t hold onto something. Though Logan initially flinched under the touch, he allowed himself to relax, his head falling onto Patton’s shoulder.

*

“Patton!”

He awoke with a start, wincing from his sore neck. Patton opened his eyes to see Matthew stood in front of him.

“Hi,” he said hoarsely. “Everything okay?”

“The same.” He pulled up his jacket, adjusting his glasses. Patton wasn’t used to seeing Matthew look so out of place. “I’m going home to get some things for Ronnie. Let Logan know where I’ve gone and call me if anything changes.”

Patton nodded, trying to smile up at Matthew. “Of course.” He looked around for Logan, realising that there was a weight on his lap. He saw that Logan had fallen asleep across him, his arms folded. Patton automatically touched his hair.

Matthew nodded a quick thanks and went out of the ward.

Patton kept smoothing Logan’s hair, thankful that he was getting some sleep. As scared as he was in the middle of all of this, he couldn’t imagine how Logan was feeling. Having his mom about fifty feet away but not knowing what was happening to her was horrible.

Patton looked at his watch, seeing that it was past one in the morning. He went to settle his head for another sleep when a nurse approached them.

“Excuse me, Logan Sanders?” the nurse said quietly, looking tentatively at Patton and the sleeping boy in his lap. Patton gently shook Logan, who thankfully woke up rather quickly, turning his head up to look at Patton. He smiled softly, making Patton’s heart jump, but he gestured to the nurse, so Logan sat up quickly.

“Yes?” Logan said. “What’s happened? Is she okay?”

“She’s stable,” the nurse confirmed, his expression sympathetic. “We’re unsure what will happen next. A doctor will be coming by and provide more information for you. You can come and see her now.”

Logan jumped up, his tiredness disappearing in an instant. He looked over at Patton, looking unsure. Patton nodded encouragingly. “I’ll stay out here – go see her.”

Logan bit his lip and whispered a small ‘thanks’ before following the nurse further into the ward.

Patton sat alone for a long time. He drifted off a couple of times and played on his phone, watching time tick by. He tried to supress the feeling of dread that kept fuelling in his stomach, thinking about how Logan’s mom might be on the brink of death.

He went to text Matthew a quick ‘Veronica is in a stable condition – free for visitors’. After he sent it, his phone vibrated. He read a text from Logan.

 **Sherlock** : _May you come into Mother’s room please_?

He quickly texted him back – ‘sure thing’ – and got up, walking over to where he saw Logan disappear.

Thankfully, Logan was stood in the doorway of Veronica’s room.

“Everything okay, Lo?” Patton asked, touching his arm.

“Yes,” Logan mumbled. “I thought it might be good to have someone with me.”

Patton walked into the room, gasping slightly when he saw Veronica hooked up to multiple machines. She looked ghostly; her face was almost skeletal, her skin blue and translucent. The sound of the heart monitor was rather jarring in the silence of the room. She was sleeping, her breathing shallow.

Logan took a seat next to the bed, not looking away from his mother. Patton stood behind him, gently placing his hands on his shoulders. “Is she in any pain?” he asked quietly.

“A little,” Logan whispered. “They sedated her, but she should wake up soon. I was supposed to message Father, but I never did.”

“I did, don’t worry. He asked me to when he left.”

Logan lent his head against Patton’s midsection. “Thank you.”

The two sat in a reflective silence, watching over Veronica. Patton kept reassuring Logan, rubbing his shoulders and playing with his hair. Logan at one point grabbed onto one of Patton’s hands and held on tightly.

Eventually, Matthew joined them in the room. He once again put his hand on Logan’s free shoulder. Patton knew this was a step towards a truce between the two – it wasn’t much, but it was a start. They needed each other more than ever.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

It was the beginning of June, and finals were over. Dexter, Logan, Patton, and Remus left their last Biology exam with large smiles on their faces, driving to Patton’s home to celebrate. Roman and Virgil were also around (Patton had definitely not walked into Virgil’s room to see Roman fall on the floor all flustered and embarrassed as Virgil screamed at him to get out). They eventually walked downstairs, ignoring Remus’ wolf whistles, and joined the others out in the garden.

They all sat contently on the grass, spread out with drinks and various snacks, laughing and chatting together in the summer sun. Virgil was sat in Roman’s lap, exchanging quips and arguing on and off; Remus had his head on Dexter’s shoulder, occasionally kissing his neck, much to the discomfort of the others; Patton and Logan were sat next to each other, their knees touching slightly.

Things had changed in the past two months. Veronica had come very close to death, but thankfully had been on the mend. She was not as strong as she used to be, and her cancer hadn’t left her yet, but the doctors and her family were more confident that she would recover. Logan’s stability had improved immensely – his desperate visits to Patton’s room had decreased and he had managed to get through finals relatively smoothly.

Patton had felt slight disappointment at Logan’s growing independence, despite the obvious improvement of situation. When Logan had been latching onto him, Patton had selfishly indulged in the connection, wishing that it could mean more. Now it had mostly passed, Logan had reverted mostly back to his normal self, stoic and logical – though at times, Logan would still reach out to him, which would warm Patton’s heart.

Even now, with their knees touching, Patton was feeling slight excitement from such a small insignificant connection. Occasionally, he would look over at Logan to see him already staring, and he would look away quickly.

As the sun began to set and as they grew more and more inebriated with alcohol (except for Dexter and Logan), Remus declared loudly; “Let’s play Truth or Dare!”

Roman rolled his eyes. “We’re not in kindergarten anymore,” he said, slurring slightly. Virgil giggled, nestling in his neck.

Patton’s eyes widened, however. “That sounds fun! Come on, Ro, no spoiling.” He turned to Logan. “You going to join us, specs?”

“Well, I don’t really understand why we are entertaining ourselves with these games,” Logan said, turning to Patton with a small smile. “But if it will create the objective of ‘fun’, then I’m all for it.”

“Great!” Remus fell forward, caught by Dexter. “You can go first, Roman. Truth or dare?”

Roman shrugged. “Truth, I guess?”

“When did you first realise that Virgil was ‘the one’?”

Roman blushed, giggling. Virgil looked over to him curiously, his own cheeks flushed.

“Well, I – I think it was in the last year of middle school,” he said. “He came to the performance of The Wizard of Oz – it was so shit, but he still came. And when I saw him in the crowd, even though he was shaking and was terrified by the crowd, and he was clapping harder than anyone else – yeah, it was hard to forget about him after that.”

The other boys awed or retched as Virgil grabbed Roman’s face and kissed his cheek, although sloppily. Patton slapped at the two, his arm flailing wildly. Logan gently touched Patton’s shoulder, pulling him back.

“Okay then, Remus,” Roman said loudly, turning back to his brother. “Truth or dare?”

The group rotated around, and as they drank, the questions and suggestions got more and more ridiculous. As the night grew dark and the boys grew more intoxicated, it was not long until they were all piled together giggling. Patton ignored his racing heart as Logan’s arm curled under his body.

“Okay, okay,” Roman cackled, knocking his head against Logan’s. “Don’t be a bore this time, Lo – truth or dare?”

“Well, if it will entertain you – dare,” Logan answered, eyes closed. He had not touched a drop of alcohol all night, so was well within his wits.

Roman pondered the thought, whispering to Virgil. Patton turned towards them curiously.

Dexter sat up, eyes glinting. “I have an idea,” he said, sounding sly. “Logan…I dare you to kiss Patton.”

Even in his tipsy haze, Patton’s eyes widened.

 _No. He can’t be serious_.

He didn’t dare look over at Logan; he didn’t want to know how he was reacting.

Virgil’s jaw set, clenching his teeth together. Roman looked over at Dexter in surprise. Remus was still staring at the sky, as if he hadn’t noticed a thing.

Logan looked up at Dexter, his expression mild. “Are we not past these infantile games?” he asked, his body stiff.

Dexter smirked at Logan, flicking small glances at Patton, who was staring back in horror. “Come on, Logan, aren’t we all going to take part? It’s one of the safest dares there are.”

“If by safe, you mean used to play with the participants’ feelings, then I believe we have two very different definitions.”

Patton tried not to let that comment get to him; he knew those feelings concerned his unrequited love – everyone knew it. Virgil peered over to him in sympathy but kept his mouth shut.

Dexter’s face fell. “So you’re going to be a chicken?”

“I’m going to be kind,” Logan answered, closing his eyes and putting his hands behind his head.

An awkward silence passed between the group. Virgil glared at Dexter furiously, though in his drunken haze he looked more like a child. Remus still seemed far away, and Patton was slightly grateful that one person wasn’t paying attention.

Roman blurted out a strange line, clearly the beginning of a bizarre new story, and everyone was distracted once more. Patton felt the hollowing absence of Logan’s arm no longer underneath him, and the sinking feeling of heartbreak.

All of the sadness, all of the hurt and heaviness that had weighed Patton down for so long was finally crushing him. He had been keeping so much to himself so he could help Logan and Virgil and Dexter over the entire span of his teens so far that now he was buckling under the weight of all of this suppression. And all it took was a stupid game of Truth or Dare.

As the night continued, everyone stumbled into the summer house, where they had set up lots of makeshift beds with countless pillows and blankets earlier that evening. Virgil managed to turn on the fairy and galaxy lights, so they remained under the stars inside, and they all clambered in the mess of the den. Dexter and Remus huddled in the corner, Roman and Virgil stacked on top of each other on the sofa, and Patton and Logan lay down on the floor.

Patton made sure to keep his distance from Logan, turning away from him, grateful for the darkness so he could let his tears finally fall. The alcohol numbed his heart, but he knew when the morning came, his wounds would be fresh and painful.

There were several minutes of chatter and bickering before heavy breathing and snores were the only sounds in the silence.

*

Patton hadn’t slept. As his intoxication slowly crept away from him, he became more aware of his need for the toilet. Finally, he couldn’t take being still anymore; he stood up carefully, making sure he wouldn’t step on Logan or fall on Roman and Virgil. He opened the door slowly, slipping outside and running through his garden, sliding open the French windows and heading to the downstairs toilet.

After splashing cold water on his face, Patton left the bathroom, brushing his hair back. If he had been paying more attention, he wouldn’t have walked straight into the tall figure in his kitchen.

“Jesus!” Patton caught himself before he shouted out loud, looking up to see Logan standing in front of him. “Oh – it’s you.” He cringed inwardly at his bluntness and dropped his eyes to the floor, so he didn’t have to look at Logan.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you,” Logan whispered, steadying Patton by grasping his shoulder. “I saw you had left, and I went to find you.”

Patton tried not to let Logan’s touch get to him, looking up curiously. Logan’s expression was unguarded and soft in the dull light. “You were up too?” he asked, dodging around him to get a glass.

“I’ve had Remus kick me in the head several times, so I’ve been drifting in and out of sleep.” Logan turned to watch Patton fill up his glass with water and drink slowly with his back to him. “Are you okay? You’ve been behaving strangely for a while now.”

Patton felt his chest constrict in a slight panic. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, this entire evening you have been very stand-offish – I don’t know if it is the alcohol or something else, but I feel you distancing from us.” Logan stepped closer, not noticing how Patton tensed when his hand brushed his back. “Is everything alright?”

Patton’s stomach filled with horror when he felt tears prick his eyes. “Really, Logan, I’m fine. Leave it be.”

The hand crept around his waist, fingers brushing his side in a comforting gesture. “You know you can tell me anything.”

“I really don’t,” Patton said, his voice coming out sharper than he intended. Logan’s touch scorched him, making him want to run away.

“What’s gotten into you?” Logan tried to turn Patton around, placing a hand on his shoulder, trying to get him to look at him. “Are you feeling okay?”

In hindsight, Patton should’ve concentrated more on the volume of his voice. Even if his parents weren’t home. But in the moment, he exploded.

“You know what? No. No, I don’t feel okay. In fact, I can’t remember the last time I felt one hundred percent here. I can’t remember the last time I woke up without a black dust cloud coating my brain. Here I’ve been, thinking about everyone first, helping everyone for _years_ and I’ve not taken a break to help myself, and it’s _fucking exhausting_. I’ve had to cater to everyone’s last need and hurt myself doing it, just so everyone around me could be happy! And it’s not like I don’t want to help people, but what is the worth in trying if all it does it fucking hurt me? Even to make _you_ happy, it feels like hell! Why try? Tell me, guy who has all the answers – **_why try_**?”

Patton felt like all of his breath had been stolen out of his lungs – his throat was raw, his eyes were burning, tears now falling freely down his cheeks. He looked down at his hand and saw that his glass was gone, now burst into shards on the kitchen floor.

He looked back up at Logan, who had taken several steps back. His expression was filled with shock, his body rigid and arms pinned to his sides. For once, he seemed lost for words.

Before he could open his mouth, Patton dodged around Logan, wiping his tears away with the back of his hand, running up the stairs to his room. He slammed the door, closing the world away.

A storm was ripping through him, clawing at his insides and his mind. Patton clamped a hand over his mouth, trying to stifle the sobs wreaking through him. He had spilled his heart out on the floor, his mess everywhere for Logan to see.

Logan. His friend. His love.

Someone he didn’t think he could be around anymore. It just hurt too much.

Before he knew what he was doing, Patton was scrambling out of his window, the need for fresh air overwhelming him. The night was clear; the stars were all still there and the moon was full. In a moment of much needed peace, Patton was happy to have the night to himself as he took time to bring air back into his lungs.

It wasn’t a confession. But it might as well have been.

The more he sat with himself, the more he began to recover from his lapse. And the more guilty he felt leaving Logan alone in the aftermath of his outburst, as well as the broken glass left alone on the floor. His heart sank at the thought of someone getting up in the night and stepping on the glass, and he went to turn back around towards the window.

Logan’s head was peering out and staring at him.

Patton jumped and immediately looked down, his guilt overcoming him.

Logan carefully clambered out and sat next to him, crossing his legs and staring up at the sky. He didn’t try to speak or touch him. Patton tried not to squirm and tried to calm his heartbeat, keeping his eyes down.

“We haven’t done this in a while, have we?” Logan murmured, gazing at the stars. “The universe keeps taking my breath away.”

Patton nodded mutely, peering up at the sky himself, glancing swiftly over at the other boy.

“I cleaned up your glass,” Logan continued, looking over at Patton. “No one woke up.”

“That’s good,” Patton rasped, coughing quietly to get the lump out of his throat.

Another silence passed between the two of them before Logan turned his body towards him.

“Patton, I have to apologise to you,” he began, his expression sombre. “You have been so incredible to all of us – to me, personally, with all that happened with my mother – and yet none of us have been taking care of you. To take on everybody else’s problems without paying attention to your own is noble, but also careless. Not that you are to blame – we have all been blind, and I cannot express how sorry I am to have blinded myself to it all.”

Patton swallowed, trying to ignore the tears threatening to resurface. “You don’t have to be sorry,” he said weakly. “You needed help, and what kind of friend would I be to turn you away?”

“And what friend would I be to force you to help me whilst disregarding your mental capacity to do so?” Logan counter-argued, shuffling closer. “Patton, I will forever been in debt to your kindness and selflessness during a time when I needed it most – but I will be forever be heartbroken that you were hurting.”

He placed his hand over Patton’s, lightly squeezing to show his gratitude. Patton felt himself blush at the contact, taking a second to breathe in order to regulate his flurry of emotions.

“Thank you, Logan,” he whispered. “I’m sorry for bursting like that. It wasn’t personal.”

“I think it may have been.”

Patton looked up, dread filling his stomach. “What do you mean?”

Logan faced him, his eyes now darting around nervously. He pressed his lips together, ran a hand through his hair, and sighed heavily.

“I know that my dare threw you off. And I can only apologise and ask you to forgive me.”

Patton closed his eyes. This was it.

“I should not have been so obvious and put you in the spot like that,” Logan continued, looking down at their connected hands. “Especially in front of everybody else. If I were to confess, I should have kept it private – I mean, I was not planning for it to be a confession, but as soon as I saw your face, I knew you understood.”

Logan kept talking and Patton became more confused. What confession? Was he trying to mock him?

“I apologise – I feel like I have so much to apologise for – and I completely understand why you would be uncomfortable around me from now on.” Logan closed his mouth, looking at Patton with a slight apprehension, as if waiting for a blow.

Patton’s head was still swimming in confusion. “Logan, I don’t really know what you’re talking about. What did you confess to? All I heard was – was that you were to remain considerate of my feelings.”

“Well, not just your own.”

Patton swallowed painfully. “Well, yeah, obviously.”

“Patton.”

He looked up to see Logan staring intently at him. His eyes shone in the moonlight, his cheeks smooth, his hair pushed back, his lips parted slightly. A pleasant heat spread across Patton’s face and he basked in what he assumed was his last civil moment with Logan.

“I am in love with you.”

It took Patton five seconds to process what Logan had said. And his heart stopped.

His mouth dropped open.

“W-what?”

Logan took a deep breath, as if he were bracing for impact. “I am in love with you,” he repeated. “I have loved you for years.” When Patton didn’t reply, he pressed on, albeit cautiously. “I kept this from you because I believed these feelings were unrequited – tonight solidified my belief. I did not want to ruin the relationship that we have, because you are my best friend before anything else. I hope you can forgive me for keeping this from you and forgive me further for being so blatant this evening. I promise that I will leave you alone if you wish and I will respect you regardless.”

Patton was still lost for words. He felt his mouth trying to curve upwards into a smile because he was hearing that Logan, his Logan, loved him.

 _He loved him_.

But he was still confused. Pleased, but confused.

“I thought – I thought that when you were talking about considering feelings, you were talking about mine.” Patton spoke softly, looking at Logan. “I thought you were saying you wouldn’t kiss me because you didn’t feel the same way that I do.”

Logan’s eyes widened in wonderment. “The – the same way?”

Patton felt himself smile as he gazed at Logan. “How could I not love you?” he whispered, lacing his fingers with Logan’s. “You have had my heart ever since we were fourteen.”

Logan was silent for several seconds before a smile broke out on his face. His teeth were brilliant, and lines creased his skin beautifully, making Patton’s heart flip and butterflies erupt in his stomach.

“Well,” Logan chuckled, a sound that Patton revelled in. “I think we could have saved ourselves a lot of discomfort over the years.”

“You’ve got that right,” Patton giggled. His expression became more serious, and he took Logan’s other hand. “You don’t need to apologise for not being transparent with me, as much as I don’t need to apologise for doing the same thing. I also didn’t want to ruin our friendship just because of some feelings – though a large weight has been lifted off of me now it’s out in the open. And I know that there has been so much going on and emotions are running so high, but here you are, and you are so beautiful, and I never want to lose you. You matter to me, Logan.”

Patton shuffled a little closer, so their knees were touching. He looked into his eyes and was so happy to see his entire world staring back at him, and only him.

Logan ran one hand up Patton’s forearm and gently grasped his upper arm. His eyes were glazed over, as if he were close to tears. “I feel that I have caused you great pain,” he muttered, his voice wavering slightly.

Patton smiled sadly. “I have been in pain for a long time. But I don’t want to be in pain anymore. I want to work on myself.”

“Of course,” Logan agreed. “And I will stand by you throughout your healing process.”

“Thank you.” Patton paused to take a breath, preparing himself for what he was going to say next. “Logan, I… I love you so much and I want nothing more than to be with you. However, I need to take some time to heal myself and love myself before I can love you fairly. I hope you can understand.”

Logan nodded almost immediately. “Of course,” he said softly, squeezing his hand. “I want you to be your best self and to see yourself how I see you – how everybody sees you.”

Patton sighed in relief, feeling tears begin to well up in his eyes again. “Thank you, Logan. Thank you.”

Logan’s arms opened, letting Patton fall into his embrace, stroking his hair and soothing him through his tears. For the first time in a long time, Patton was being comforted and he was beginning to feel a sense of contentment.

As they lay down on the roof in a sweet embrace under the stars, looking into each other’s eyes, Patton felt a hope begin to shine deep in his heart, ready to heal and start anew. And when the sun began to rise and the boys went back to the summer house, they were linked by the hands, and Patton didn’t need to worry about what it meant – because he knew that Logan loved him in every conceivable way, and that would not change.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

“You know what, I really hoped you weren’t being serious when you mentioned going in the buff under your graduation gown,” Dexter hissed out of the corner of his mouth.

“Always expect the expected darling,” Remus cackled, flapping the bottom of his gown around suggestively.

Dexter, Remus, Patton, and Logan were all huddled together in the midst of the other seniors, waiting for the graduation ceremony to start. The atmosphere was filled with excitement and a sense of finality and sadness; Patton was trying hard not to let his emotions overcome him in the moment, instead turning his attention to his friends. Dexter was furiously talking Remus out of his plan to flash the audience and stage dive, whilst Logan was adjusting his tie and valedictorian sash, carefully blotting his forehead of any sweat.

Patton put his hand on Logan’s arm, turning him away from the couple. “You doing okay, teach?” he asked softly, looking up at his friend.

“Yeah,” Logan breathed out, looking down at his hands which were trembling slightly. “Yes – just a bit nervous.”

“I figured.” Patton took both of his hands into his own, running his thumbs over his knuckles. “You’ve got this, Logan. I’ve probably read your speech more than you have, and it’s amazing.”

Logan smiled nervously, his lips still pressed together. “One would hope that all the time I spent editing it would mean it’s a worthy speech for our graduation.”

“Of course.”

Patton grinned at Logan, squeezing his hands again, knowing that there was no need to speak any more.

It had been almost two months since the end of their finals, and Patton was in the stages of healing. With the help of his family and friends, he was able to find a counsellor that suited his needs. Sure, Emile Picani was an eccentric man who at times was too hyper for his own good, but Patton had fallen in love with him, and by his unconventional methods had started to work through Patton’s issues together.

And nowadays, Patton was waking up with no haze in his head and would hit his bed at the end of the day without feeling unaccomplished. Though it was yet to become consistent and he still had some bad days, Patton was learning to listen to his body and mind and was taking the time to take care of himself.

His journey with Logan was also no longer turbulent – with confessions out of the way and their true feelings now on the table, Patton was also learning to love Logan all over again, in a way that wasn’t a painful secret, but was a beautiful exciting feeling that he could share. Though he and Logan were still respectful of boundaries and had no official title on their relationship, their interactions had become sweeter and more loving, and Patton was transfixed by Logan and didn’t care who could see.

Even now when they were standing in the crowd of emotional seniors, Patton couldn’t see anyone but Logan. As they clung to each other, they didn’t hear the first several calls from one of their teachers that Logan had three minutes until his speech.

“You’ve got this, darling,” Dexter said, patting Logan’s shoulder.

“I still think you should curse out the institution, but you do you,” Remus grinned.

“You’re going to be great,” Patton murmured.

Logan looked at the three of them, his eyes shining. “Thank you all. You are truly the best companions one could ask for,” he choked out, swallowing. He turned back to Patton, looking back down at their clasped hands.

In a split second, Patton made a choice and he didn’t regret it. He stood on his tiptoes and placed a gentle kiss on Logan’s cheek.

“If you need to, think of me,” he whispered to him, pulling back slightly to smile at Logan.

Logan’s cheeks were dusted with pink and he seemed lost for words. Before he could say anything, the teacher came back and dragged Logan towards the stage.

The crowd and seniors were quietened, and the principle called attention to Logan Sanders. Applause sounded throughout the hall as Logan walked up to the podium, nodding to the audience. He pulled his notes out of his robe and set them down on the wood, waiting for the applause to die down.

“Thank you all.” He took a second for a breath – he raised a hand to his cheek where Patton had touched him, looked up and continued.

“A lesson we as people, especially young people, are taught consistently is that life is complicated. Life is not always kind to us – many of you in this auditorium will agree. And these complications usually make no sense to us, and it causes us to question why we face hardship – is it coincidence? Or is it a test? A test for us to power through or to ignore our problems or to hope that everything will eventually subside.

“However, something I have learnt over the four years I have spent at Belle Vue High School is that our hardships do test us in ways that encourage us to speak up – to reach out and understand that there’s no shame in asking for help. Because when you extend your hand to help others, they will not forget, they will be better, and overall we will all be better if we reach out to each other. To choose to be good, to choose to be a tutor, a friend, or just someone who is willing to listen, will build us up as people and will shape and develop us into complex and caring individuals.

“In our teenage years, we know better than anyone that life is convoluted – and everybody’s lives are convoluted in their own ways. So, the next time you see stranger struggling, a friend falling, or a loved one lagging behind – reach out to them. Help them. Because at the end of our lives, we will always remember those who offered us compassion and kindness – and I believe that our world would be a better place if we all chose to be kind.

“Here’s to the class of 2020. Thank you, Belle Vue.”

The entire auditorium blew up in applause – Patton could hear Logan’s parents cheering louder than anybody else. He looked back to see Logan smiling shyly at the crowd, pushing his glasses back up onto his nose. The principle walked up to the podium and clapped his hand on his back, announcing into the microphone – “Ladies and gentlemen, your valedictorian Logan Sanders.”

He passed him his diploma cover and shook his hand. Logan muttered a thank you under his breath and walked back with the principle to stand by the table of diplomas.

One by one, in alphabetical order, the seniors were called up to accept their diploma covers, meeting a continuous applause. Dexter was called up first out of the group, tipping a wink to the audience as he walked across the stage.

Patton was next, walking out onto the stage to be met with loud cheers and cries from his family, especially Virgil and Roman, who were stood up and cheering wildly. Patton grinned at them and when he reached the principle and Logan, he took his diploma and shook the principle’s hand. He took a second to look at Logan, and his stomach filled with butterflies as he saw his gorgeous smile.

Remus was afterwards, and Patton heard Dexter suck in a breath as he strode across the stage. Thankfully, Remus only pulled up his gown to revel one slender leg accompanied with a ridiculous pair of heels, making Dexter exhale in relief and slight exasperation.

Once all of the students had walked across the stage, the principle closed the ceremony, congratulation the seniors. They threw their hats up in the air and cheered, and it was done.

Patton, Remus, and Dexter all hugged each other, gathering together in the mass of seniors. Virgil and Roman had weaselled their way through the crowd to join them. Patton was happy to get a hug from Virgil, revelling in the high he was feeling from this incredible atmosphere.

“Logan!” Dexter cried out, looking over the crowd and waving his hand.

Patton turned suddenly, smiling at the sight of Logan hurriedly weaving through the students and families, eyes set on their group. When he reached the others, Patton wasted no time jumping up at the tall boy, wrapping his arms around his neck and pressing his face into his skin. Logan caught him around the waist, his cheek resting on the top of his head.

“That was wonderful, specs,” Patton murmured.

“I was thinking of you, that’s why,” Logan replied, pulling back to look at Patton, placing him down on his toes but not relinquishing his grip on him. “We did it.”

“Yeah,” Patton grinned, his hands sliding up to Logan’s face, cupping his cheeks, flushing as he saw Logan blush at the contact.

He had never felt happier than in this moment.

“May I kiss you?”

Logan’s eyes crinkled and he pulled Patton closer.

“I’m not sure,” he whispered, eyes flickering down to his lips. “I may have to be the one that kisses you.”

They met in the middle, Logan’s arms completely encasing Patton’s midsection as Patton curled his fingers into his hair. As their lips touched, Patton swore that his heart almost exploded with happiness, getting lost in the moment he had been dreaming of for years.

After several seconds, Logan gently pulled away, his hands coming up to clutch Patton’s forearms whilst staring into his eyes, their foreheads connected.

“I love you so much,” he whispered, his hands trembling slightly.

“I love you too,” Patton replied, his cheeks aching from his wide smile. “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting.”

“I would wait a thousand lifetimes for you, Patton Foster,” Logan murmured, moving back in for another kiss.

As the pair remained in their own world, Dexter, Roman, Virgil, and Remus all grinned at each other.

“About damn time,” Virgil grumbled.

“You said it,” Roman replied.

“You owe me twenty bucks, darling,” Dexter smirked.

“Can I not use another method of payment?” Remus whined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! <3


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